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THE 

RATIONALITY 

OF 
ILLUSTRATED IN A SERIES 

OF 

SERMONS; 

TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 

AN E§§A1 

ON 

THE MERITS OF MODERN FICTION, 

AND 

Al lecture 

on 
THE DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE, 



BY 

PIERS EDMUND BUTLER, B.A. 



CURATE OF ST. MARGARET'S IPSWICH. 



IPSWICH : 
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY R. DECK. 

SOLD ALSO BY 

HAMILTON, ADAMS AND CO. PATERNOSTER ROW, AND 

SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL, STATIONER'S HALL, COURT, LONDON ; 

J. DECK, BURY ST. EDMUND'S; DE1GHTON AND STEVENSON, 

CAMBRIDGE; AND J. STACEY, NORWICH. 

1835. 






The Lx»l*Aft¥ 

OF COMORESS 

WAS**-' ' 






%T 



PREFACE. 



The employment of general rea- 
soning in defence of revealed truth 
is sanctioned by Apostolic example. 
Paul reasoned with all classes of 
men from their own principles. A- 
mong the Jews, who, although with 
unenlightened zeal, venerated the 
Old Testament, he drew from its 
page a confirmation of his message. 
Among the Greeks, who worshipped 
the idol of human philosophy, he 
deduced from self-evident propo- 
sitions an argument in favor of his 
doctrine. It is to be feared that 
many in our own age and country 



IV PREFACE. 

require to be addressed in the latter, 
rather than in the former, method. 

Some deviation from the very 
phraseology of the Bible is surely 
allowable in a religious Work of 
the present day; yet by many is 
regarded with timid suspicion. The 
Bible, be it remembered, is not one 
book, but many. Are we to re- 
gulate style by the model of the Old 
Testament, or by that of the New ? 
If it be said we are bound to prefer 
the New, here the same difficulty 
recurs. Paul has written in a style 
very different from that of Peter 
and of John, who in this respect 
differ no less from each other. In 
fact a similar diversity runs through 
all the writers of the New Tes- 
tament. Are we to imitate, then, 
what in style is common to them 
all ? But who shall determine what 



PREFACE, V 

that is ? The Evangelists and Apo- 
stles themselves employed the style, 
not of previously-existing Scripture, 
but of their own contemporaries — 
modified by the surpassing mag- 
nitude and moment of their subject, 
by the hallowed peculiarity of feel- 
ing that filled their minds, and also 
by the use of certain terms, not fur- 
nished by any earthly tongue, yet 
essential to the expression of their 
thoughts. They did so, because 
their aim was to benefit mankind, 
and they were divinely taught that 
such a method was best adapted for 
attaining it. 

It were vain to deprecate the se- 
verity of criticism by allusion to the 
circumstances under which a pub- 
lication has been prepared; other- 
wise the reader might be told that the 
present was completed amid the cares 
b2 



VI PREFACE. 

of domestic education and the duties 
of a laborious cure, with scarcely any 
outward aid but a Bible, and under 
the pressure of afflictions such as 
have not often lighted on one hu- 
man heart. Eight of the Sermons 
from the commencement may be 
considered as forming, in some de- 
gree, a connected treatise on what 
the author believes to be the prin- 
cipal peculiarities of the Christian 
system : the remaining two, with 
the Essay subjoined, are on subjects 
rarely treated, but which he ap- 
prehends are fraught with interest 
to a pious and reflecting mind. The 
Lecture that closes the Volume was 
delivered at the request of the Com- 
mittee of the Mechanics' Institute, 
Ipswich. The whole is laid before 
the public with much diffidence, but 
without anxiety. If the labors of 



PREFACE. Vll 

the author be in any measure cal- 
culated to promote the best cause, 
Divine Providence may ultimately 
prosper even them— if otherwise, he 
stands ready to lay the torch with 
his own hand to their funeral pile, 
and inscribe on his ruined hope of 
literary usefulness 







Ml WttS I1U 


i iau 






! 






















1 


; 












M &CU1'~^TH : 



















ERRATA. 



Page 145, line 4, for " corporal" read " corporeal." 

159, — 21, for " particular" read " political." 

162, — 19, for " than" read " that." 

209, —21, for "offering" read "offspring." 

247, — 4, for " existence" read " intelligence. 

342, — 20, for " language" read " languor." 

359, — 15, for " national" read " natural." 



CONTENTS. 



SERMON I. 

PAGE. 
ON THE ADOPTION OF AN IMPERFECT MORAL 
STANDARD. 

Mathew vi. 23. 

" If the light that is in thee be darkness, how 
great is that darkness." . . . 1 

SERMON II. 

no fear of god without christianity. 

Psalm cxxx. 4. 

ie There is forgiveness with thee, that thou 
may est be feared" • • • • .27 

SERMON III. 

on the nature of faith. 

Romans x. 9. 

" If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the 
Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart that 
God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt 
be saved." 57 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

SERMON IV. 

ON THE GUILT OF UNBELIEF. 

John iii. 19. 

'• This is the condemnation, that light is come 
into the world, and men loved darkness rather 
than light, because their deeds were evil • . 98 

SERMON V. 

DIVINE PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED IN CON- 
NECTION WITH HUMAN ACCOUNTABILITY. 

Romans ix. 19. 
" Thou wilt say then unto me, why doth He 
yet find fault, for who hath resisted his mill* . 126 

SERMON VI. 

THE EXPANSIVE TENDENCY OF PERSONAL 
RELIGION. 

2 Peter iii. 18. 
" Grow in Grace." 154 

SERMON VII. 

THE ADAPTATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO THE 
VARIETIES OF NATURAL CHARACTER. 

Isaiah xi. 6 — 9. 

" The wo]f also shall die ell with the lamb, and 
the leopard shall lie doicn with the kid; and the 



CONTENTS. Xi 

PAGE. 

calf and the young lion and the fat ling together; 
and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and 
the bear shall feed ; their young ones shall lie 
down together : and the lion shall eat straw like 
the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the 
hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his 
hand on the cockatrice* den. They shall not hurt 
nor destroy in all my holy mountain, , M . .183 

SERMON VIII. 

THE TENDENCY DERIVED TO AFFLICTION FROM 
THE PRINCIPLES OF PIETY. 

2 Corinthians iv. 17, 18. 
"For our light affliction, which is but for a 
moment , workethfor us afar more exceeding and 
eternal weight of glory ; while we look not at the 
things which are seen, but the things which are 
not seen : for the things which are seen are tern- 
poral ; but the things which are not seen are 
eternal: 3 . . . . . . .213 

SERMON IX. 

ON THE REVEALED HISTORY OF ANGELIC 
BEING. 

Hebrews i. 7. 
" Of the Angels lie saith, who maketh his 
Angels Spirits, and his Ministers a flame of 
fire: 9 242 



Xll CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

SERMON X. 

IS THERE NOTHING IN DEITY ANALOGOUS TO 
MENTAL AFFECTION IN MAN? 

Genesis i. 27. 
" God created man in his own image" . . 269 

ESSAY 

ON THE MERITS OF MODERN FICTION . .301 

LECTURE 

ON THE DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE . . 326 



SUBSCRIBERS, 



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Black, Captain Wm. R. N. 

Bond, J. Esq. Freston 

Badham, C. Esq. Emmanuel College, Cambridge 

Bull, Rev. J. G. Tattingstone 

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Burton, Mr. Joseph M. Ipswich 

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XIV SUBSCRIBERS. 

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SERHOK I. 



ON THE ADOPTION OF AN IMPERFECT 
MORAL STANDARD. 

Matt, vi. 23* 

" If the light that is in thee be darkness^ 
how great is that darkness." 

There is not any department of hu- 
man thought wherein so gross and fa- 
tal errors have been multiplied as in 
that of religion. Ages of ignorance 
have reared false systems in all; but 
the progress of knowledge detects and 
dissipates every one, except false reli- 
gion. Partial errors may cleave to 
the science of a learned age, until the 

B 



touch of some master-hand has swept 
them away amid the admiration of 
the civilized world ; but, in religion, 
the most conflicting systems number 
still their millions of adherents, and 
in this department, therefore, essential 
errors yet remain to be corrected, 
which the experience of the past for- 
bids us to hope that the touch of hu- 
man skill may ever remove. There 
is somewhat peculiar in the case, nor 
is it difficult to point out what the pe- 
culiarity is. On the part of mankind 
in general, there is no deep-rooted and 
inveterate enmity to truth in any de- 
partment of merely natural knowledge; 
among the educated, an eager desire 
of discovering it, wheresoever latent, 
or at least a readiness to recognize it 
when discovered, most commonly ex- 
ists ; but our experience of human na- 
ture within us, and our observation of 
it without us, warrant the assertion, 
that a similar willingness to search 



out, or acknowledge, religious truth, 
is not common among mankind. Nay, 
the very reverse of it is common — an 
unwillingness to engage in the serious 
and unprejudiced pursuit of religious 
truth — an aversion from the reception 
of it when brought to light — a volun- 
tary preference of error. Men wish to 
be deceived, and therefore they are so. 
Without this soil to work on, no form 
of superstition would ever have suc- 
ceeded on earth. So resolved is the 
sinner on being deluded, that, if no 
other will, he becomes the impostor of 
his own soul. While means of better 
information are multiplied around, and 
ten thousand lights of sacred science 
are blazing down upon him, he prefers 
his own darkness, he murders his op- 
portunities, and builds up a lie with 
the ruins of his eternal welfare. 

There is one principle common to 
all systems of erroneous belief, one er- 
ror that cleaves to the natural heart in 



4 

all circumstances; it is the principle 
of the Pharisee of old. All the lights 
of Christianity have not banished it 
from society, nominally Christian. It 
is fortified by sophistry in many minds ; 
it is maintained without reflection in 
more. The question is never asked, 
" are my views accordant with the 
Scripture, and substantiated by impar- 
tial reason ?" — or if it be, the heart, 
averse from truth, suggests to the un- 
derstanding an unrighteous decision. 
If a hope of immortality has been 
erected in the soul, the security of its 
foundation is, doubtless, an important 
matter; and it behoves us to look, at 
least, into the assumed reality of the 
simple fact, that our characters are 
fit to undergo a scrutiny in Heaven, 
that our moral worth is indeed worthy 

of the name. 

- 

: 
I. Everyone knows that the morality 

of an action depends on the motives 



which direct it, and, consequently, 
on the rule to which it is professedly 
conformed. It will be readily admit- 
ted that if our rule of life be erro- 
neous or defective, and yet has been 
wilfully preferred to a better, the life 
directed by it never can receive an ap- 
proval from God. We shall now en- 
deavour to show that the moralists 
of the world build their virtues on 
no more solid foundation than this; 
and, in order to demonstrate our point, 
we shall examine in succession the 
rules of life with which they have fuF- 
nished it. 

1. What conceptions of duty must 
they have whose only recognized rule 
of life is the law of the state ? Ere 
they have thus lowered and mutilated 
their moral standard, what awful and 
successive victories must they have 
achieved over the dictates of their own 
calmer judgments, until, at length, the 
immortal has been merged in the mor- 
b2 



tal of their existence ! Mere ignorance 
can hardly account for such a void, 
where virtue's place ought to be, in 
the soul. Yet are there men, called 
rational, who acknowledge no other 
law than that of the country they inha- 
bit. Provided no visible authority 
menace their deeds with retribution* 
they care little to what superior tribu- 
nal they are amenable. They have, in 
fact, no real moral standard at all. 
Every action is with them a thing of 
inclination, or necessity, or prudence, 
but not of moral bearings. A mo- 
ment's reflection might suffice to era- 
dicate the grossness of their error. 
They would remember that human tri- 
bunals have only to do with tangible 
actions — that the prevention of palpa- 
ble wrong, or the punishment of acted 
criminality, is their province, and ten 
thousand moral enormities in social, 
in domestic, and individual life, lie 
utterly beyond it. They would re- 



member, that if the vices of private 
life and the unembodied crimes of the 
mind were cognizable by civil autho- 
rity, the criminal and his judge would 
alike be obnoxious to condemnation, 
and a being- from some purer and more 
perfect world would alone be capable 
of sitting on the throne of judgment. 
But on such a subject it w^ould be su- 
perfluous to dwell. 

2. The u unwritten law'* of the 
world is more comprehensive than the 
former, and embraces the whole range 
of principle and practice so far as they 
come within human observation. Yet 
on a close examination of the law of 
public opinion, we shall find that, like 
the foregoing, when considered as a 
rule of life, it is not without imperfec- 
tion. It wants uniformity. Its de- 
crees in one age have conflicted with 
its decrees in another ; and at this 
moment it varies, in important in- 
stances, in the various parts of the 



8 

world. Practices were allowed or 
encouraged by the voice of former 
generations that are now either wholly 
abolished or universally reprobated ; 
what in our own country would be 
odious and disgraceful, brings no re- 
proach along with it when committed 
in China or in Hindostan. Struck 
with this want of uniformity in the 
law of public opinion, some persons 
have rashly adopted the monstrous 
idea that right and wrong exist in opi- 
nion only — forgetting that in no age 
or country has all virtue been account- 
ed vice, and all vice accounted virtue, 
but certain simpler principles of equity 
have ever been, and are every where 
agreed on. No community has existed 
wherein murder and rapine were uni- 
versally approved and practised, for 
no such community could continue to 
exist. Yet the deficiency of the law 
we examine must still be acknow- 
ledged. Its dictates are uot seldom 



opposed to the dictates of individual 
conscience* In every country a con- 
duct unjustifiable by impartial reason 
may be pursued without incurring the 
censure of public opinion. We every 
day behold actions committed which 
bring no unpopularity on the actors, 
but which almost any man in private 
would be ashamed not to reprobate. 
What the judgment of the individual 
is compelled to blame, the judgment 
of the public forbears to censure ; and 
men collectively allow what they 
singly condemn. To explain this re- 
markable fact in human history is not 
our business here — we have only to do 
with it as an evidence of imperfection 
in the law of public opinion. 

3. There is, indeed, among men a 
law highly pre-eminent over both the 
foregoing. Like the divine jurisdic- 
tion, it is not confined to external 
duty, but reaches to the thoughts and 
intents of the heart. Where the civil 



10 

code was silent, and public opinion 
erred, conscience has pronounced her 
pure and unambiguous sentence, and 
entered her protest on the tables of 
the heart against practices applauded 
by a world. Her dictates are the law 
of God within the breast of man. Her 
voice is the voice of a divine oracle, 
giving response to our unuttered in- 
quiry after the way of rectitude. Her 
authority is sacred ; her sanctions are 
from above. But the self-styled mas- 
ters of moral learning, having num- 
bered the law of conscience among the 
rules of life, and regarded it in theory 
as a law of God, lose sight of this prin- 
ciple, almost invariably, when they 
come to establish particular duties, 
deducing them from the eternal fitness 
of things, or the temporal consequences 
of virtue and vice, or our natural per- 
ceptions of right and wrong considered 
without relation to God at all. A con- 
stant reference to the divine will, a 



11 

practical recognition of divine autho- 
rity, would give to their writings a re- 
ligions ah% which, undoubtedly, they 
never possess. And is it wise, or 
right, or safe, to make conscience un- 
dergo violent transformation into a 
virtual Atheist, and to silence ail her 
testimony on behalf of her Author ? 
Before the relation wherein we stand 
to God all others dwindle into insigni- 
ficance. No other power can prefer 
so strong a claim to dominion; no 
other legislator can challenge obe- 
dience with a right so undeniable* In- 
finitely good, and powerful and wise, 
dare we withhold from Him our alle- 
giance ? He has the right of a Crea- 
tor to reign over us. " If I be a mas- 
ter, where is my fear? If I be a father, 
where is my honour ?" The authority 
of the state may prescribe our conduct 
as members of the state ; the public 
judgment may exercise an influence 
over us as members of society; but 



12 

here is an authority competent to legis- 
late for us in every relation from the 
lowest to the highest. To make the 
divine law our rule of life, and do all 
things to the divine glory, is therefore 
but our reasonable service. To sub- 
mit to civil government from motives 
of necessity is not enough — it should 
be done in compliance with the will of 
God ; to respect public opinion with 
a view to private interest is not 
enough — we should pay the respect 
due to it in obedience to the will of 
God ; and to yield to the dictates of 
conscience, in order to avoid her stings, 
is not enough — we should follow them 
as intimations of the will of God ; for 
thus to act, is to act as servants of 
God, and to act otherwise is to deviate 
from that character, and act as an 
Atheist might do. An Atheist may, 
from necessity, submit to the laws of 
his country, and, from prudence, pay 
respect to public opinion ; and even fol- 



13 

low, occasionally, the dictates of con- 
science rather than forfeit the enjoy- 
ment of self-complacency, and sink in 
his own esteem ; all this he may do, 
and be an Atheist still. But, under 
the eye of the Moral Governor of all 
intelligences, are we no more to regard 
His authority, than if it did not exist? 
How must this appear in Heaven? 
Here is the grand imperfection of the 
law of conscience, as it prevails in the 
natural mind — it has been practically 
torn from its rightful connection with 
the rule of the Most High, Nor is 
this the only imperfection by which it 
is attended. Conscience may, in many 
instances, be uninformed ; and her in- 
timations of duty can evidently extend 
no farther than her knowledge of duty. 
In every community on earth what 
numbers are deficient in this! The 
unpropitious and powerful influence of 
evil example, combined with the obli- 
quity of evil passion, hinders the exer- 
c 



14 

cise of the judgment altogether oa 
many a practical question. Men daily 
act as others act, and as themselves 
desire, without a consultation of the 
internal monitor — hence the ignorance 
that ever punishes the neglect of in- 
quiry may be traced in the moral ex- 
istence of mankind. How many an 
instance of this ignorance will be dis- 
covered in himself by the man who 
seriously sits down to reflection on the 
subject of his own duties ! Conscience, 
too, may be misinformed, and, in some 
cases, adopt an erroneous judgment. 
In simpler matters her guidance is not 
delusive, for her judgment is uniform; 
but in more difficult cases the world 
has found it otherwise. To practise 
the rites of superstition, and persecute 
all who decline them, has been a point 
of conscientious tenderness in millions 
of human hearts. Examples of this 
kind are not brought under our obser- 
vation ; but others, alike in substance, 



15 

may be found among us. And con- 
science may be hardened into insensi- 
bility, so as no longer to afford warn- 
ing, by her penal pangs, when we de- 
viate into the bye-paths of iniquity. 
Her light, long unheeded, may be per- 
mitted to go out in darkness; her 
voice, long contemned, may be suffered 
to die away into silence, or a feeble 
murmur be its only remnant, until the 
discoveries of eternity awaken it into 
thunder again. 

These include, or imply, all the rules 
of life with which the moralists of the 
world have furnished it — the law of the 
state, extending only to grosser and 
more tangible forms of wickedness; the 
law of public opinion, characterized by 
want of uniformity, and by not infre- 
quent collision with the dictates of in- 
dividual judgment ; and the law of 
conscience, parted from divine autho- 
rity, defective through ignorances er- 
roneous through misinformation, liable 



16 

to become marred into incapability of 
its office. 

The world has witnessed the pro- 
mulgation of another and a purer law, 
but to this none of its moral guides 
habitually refer. They may praise in 
general expressions the pure and sub- 
lime morality of the New Testament, 
acknowledge its pre-eminence over all 
other ethical systems, and occasionally 
compliment the beauty of particular 
precepts ; but an habitual reference to 
the revealed law of God, for the deci- 
sion of every moral question, is un- 
known among them. This is the point 
which we have all along had in view, 
and around which we would now col- 
lect all your attention. A perfect mo- 
ral standard has been sent down from 
Heaven ; its divine original is acknow- 
ledged by most among us, its unrival- 
led elevation by all ; yet have other 
and imperfect rules of life been wil- 
fully substituted for it. Where the rule 



17 

of life is wrong, how can life be right? 
" If the light that is in thee be dark- 
ness, how great is that darkness?" 
We admit it is by the law of nature 
they will be judged who know no 
purer law ; but they who know a purer 
and reject it, make themselves respon- 
sible for all the consequences of adopt- 
ing an imperfect standard. That all 
this actually applies to his own condi- 
tion, is an awful and startling disco- 
very for a sinner to make ; it is there- 
fore with much tenderness and concern 
we would lay the subject before your 
minds. We conceive that the consi- 
derations brought forward are too 
weighty to leave you excusable in 
lightly passing them over. Pause, 
and consider your state. The law 1 of 
God we have shown to be the true rule 
of life, and the Scripture to be the only 
perfect revelation of it. There it 
shines forth, holy, just, and good ; the 
greater and minuter points of duty 
c2 



18 

alike displayed in its illumination. 
There principle is directed, and 
thought controlled — precepts furnished 
for all the relations of human life, 
liable to none but wilful misinterpre- 
tation. If, instead of such, you have 
adopted an imperfect rule, what plea 
can you urge in self-vindication at the 
bar of eternal righteousness ? What is 
the real worth of all the virtues in which 
you may have hitherto gloried ? Is 
it too much to affirm, that they are 
lighter than vanity, constituting, as 
they do, but a weak and miserable at- 
tempt at conforming to a false rule ? 
No — 

" The Judge of all men owes them no regard." 
In the annals of our world, one— 
and one only — character is found on 
which none could ever fix a stain; 
one only being is named who honoured 
and fulfilled the divine law. To 
do the will of his Heavenly Father 
was meat and drink to him ; his na- 



19 

ture was purity, and his practice -per- 
fection. He could challenge all the 
scrutiny of his enemies, and say, 
" which of you convinceth me of sin 383 
Such is the character on which eyes 
purer than to behold iniquity can look 
with satisfaction ; such is the righted 
ousness that will bear the test of the 
balance of the sanctuary. Such a 
righteousness ive must be prepared to 
exhibit, if we would find acceptance 
with God. There must be no flaw in 
our performances, no blemish in our 
characters, or they must be altogether 
worthless before Him. If sin be upon 
them, it is impossible they can in any 
measure commend us to his favour. 
Let us not be deceived. Is it by the 
opinions of the world, or by the prin- 
ciples of his own government, that 
God will direct the proceedings of the 
final judgment ? No insufficient plea 
will there be admitted — no righteous- 
ness recognized that does not exceed 



20 

that of the moralists of the world— no 
performances approved that were ne- 
ver directed by the divine law — no ex- 
cellencies allowed of which an Atheist 
may be capable. You may, by your 
public worth and private virtues, com- 
mand the love and veneration of 
earthly society, yet be excluded from 
the society of Heaven as men who 
feared not God. Between a perfect 
righteousness and none, there can be 
no medium — an imperfect righteous- 
ness is a contradiction in terms. But 
such a one as you need is proposed 
for your acceptance. — " Christ is the 
end of the law for righteousness to 
every one that believeth." Invested 
with such a covering, our souls pre- 
sent no visible stain to the eye of di- 
vine justice. The Father beholds us 
in legal identity with the Son, and 
the beauty of the Lord is upon us. 
Over against the believer's name there 
once was a dark catalogue of trans- 



21 

gression in the book of remembrance ; 
but the recording angel has blotted it 
with the blood of the Lamb, and writ- 
ten in its stead an everlasting righte- 
ousness. How it lightens awakened 
conscience of her burden to realize 
this, and removes a mountain off the 
penitent heart ! 

II. It remains to contrast the obe- 
dience of the believer with the mora- 
lity of the world. Although its ene- 
mies have reproached the Gospel with 
relaxing the motives of virtue, there 
is an obedience of faith. The present 
department of our subject would prove 
a very ample one, should we attempt 
a survey of it all ; a few leading ob- 
servations will be sufficient here. 

1. The believer acknowledges a true 
and perfect rule of life —the revealed 
law of (ml. Faith will receive all 
that it understands of the word of God, 
being simply a principle of reliance on 



22 

His testimony. When we read a com- 
munication from a person in whose 
veracity our confidence is complete, 
it is evident we cannot defer to one 
part of it and despise another, while 
both have equal inherent credibility. 
Such a proceeding would imply some 
want of faith in the word of our in- 
formant ; in the case under considera- 
tion it would be altogether monstrous. 
Now the divine testimony not only re- 
veals an indissoluble connection estab- 
lished between faith in Christ and the 
believer's security, but it reveals, in a 
manner no less explicit, a similar con- 
nection established between the prac- 
tice of holiness and the maintenance 
of peace. Tt declares that he who be- 
lieveth on the Son hath everlasting 
life ; and it as plainly declares that 
the ways of wisdom are ways of plea- 
santness, and in keeping her command- 
ments there is great reward. While 
relying implicitly on divine truth, can 



23 

we select the former portion of its 
testimony for the keeping of affection- 
ate zeal, and carelessly consign the 
latter to eternal oblivion ? And in 
what way can we evidence our belief 
of the declaration concerning the hap- 
piness of walking in wisdom's ways, 
but by directing our own footsteps 
accordingly ? The same hand has in- 
dited the precepts and sealed the pro- 
mises; he who venerates that hand 
will receive them both alike. 

2. The divine authority is presented 
to us in the Gospel encompassed with 
additional claims. There God is seen 
entitled to our allegiance not only by 
the right of a Creator, but by that of 
a Redeemer too. We view Him as 
our Father by a twofold claim when 
we view him through the medium of 
his own Revelation. We know him 
as not alone the author of our natural 
being, and our preserver from unnum- 
bered and unknown perils encompass- 



24 

ing our mortality ; but we know him 
as the giver of a new and better being, 
the author of our life eternal, the pre- 
server of our immortality. This will 
overcome the mind, and bow it to a 
sense of his authority ; it will render 
subjection light, and make it easy to 
obey; it will establish, on weightier 
considerations, a permanent sense of 
his right to reign over us. 

3. But not only does the Gospel 
give additional force to divine autho- 
rity, by presenting it encircled with 
new and more interesting claims ; be- 
lief of it, in fact, gives birth exclusively 
to the principle of submission. You 
have seen that the world, and its re- 
puted lights, have pushed aside that 
authority from the place rightfully 
belonging to it in the system of morals; 
and the law of the state, the law of 
public opinion, and that of conscience 
unconnected with the government of 
its Author, are the imperfect, or erro- 



25 

neous rules of life, substituted by them 
for the law of God. But why has the 
world conspired to supersede the 
claims of her legitimate sovereign, 
and virtual Atheism less or more cha- 
racterized all her moral systems, in 
ancient or modern times, in rude or 
civilized society? Have we not here 
a practical evidence of that enmity 
against God, that deep resistance to 
his holy rule, with which his revela- 
tion charges every natural mind? 
But when God is made known in the 
character of a Saviour, and we hear 
his voice announcing " your sins are 
forgiven," the burden of guilt falls off, 
the dread of retribution is dissolved, 
and the enmity that arose from them 
is for ever slain. Revering Him as a 
Father, and trusting Him as a Saviour, 
we turn to contemplate him with the 
willingness of love, and feel it a de- 
light no less than a duty to yield our- 
selves up to his control. Submission 



26 

becomes natural to the mind, and we 
would not, if we might, cast away the 
cords of one sacred obligation. We 
shall raise our aim to higher virtues 
than the Pharisees of the age may ex- 
hibit; and while they are content 
with an imperfect and Godless mora- 
lity, it shall be our object evermore 
to feel the presence and follow the 
will of the Most High. 



27 



$ERM©<¥ II. 



NO FEAR OF GOD WITHOUT CHRIS- 
TIANITY. 

Psalm exxx. 4. 

" There is forgiveness with thee that 
thou mayest be feared" 

If we admit that Deity exists, and 
that a hereafter of retribution awaits 
mankind, it must be allowed that the 
business of religion precedes all others 
in importance. It is the only one 
commensurate with that eternity to 
which we are destined. All others 
terminate here; their remotest con- 
sequences, except as they affect our 



28 

religious condition, extend no farther 
than the grave. When the breath of 
mortality has ceased to heave the 
breast, and the eye has looked for the 
last time on all that was splendid or 
lovely in the world, what boots it to 
the disembodied spirit how fashion 
turns the tide of folly, how commerce 
languishes or revives, what party pre- 
vails in the state, or what influence is 
dominant in the councils of nations ? 
Much as these things affect the real 
or imaginary interests of the living, 
they concern not and they touch not 
the soul that has taken her flight into 
eternity. Other interests, if not be- 
fore, have at length broken upon her 
view in all their unutterable magni- 
tude, and absorbed all her emotions. 
Oh ! if they affected ours as they are 
worthy to affect them, what a different 
scene would human life exhibit from 
that which every where meets our 
eyes! 



29 

The man who is convinced that he 
has a judicial affair of infinite moment 
to himself to transact with a being of 
most perfect righteousness and al- 
mighty power, and yet by a painful 
but prolonged effort smothers up that 
conviction in his breast, at once dread- 
ing to obey its tendency and dreading 
the consequences of resisting it, con- 
ceding the reality and the weight of 
duty's greatest obligation, and feebly 
putting off compliance with it, is an 
object for the Christian to contemplate 
with the tenderness of profound com- 
passion. But he who scoffs at all that 
is most solemn in what he knows to 
be truth — who glories in the hardihood 
with which he sets Heaven at defiance, 
and makes death and et rnity the 
theme o* his jocular mood —is an in- 
stance of depraved infatuation which 
the serious behold and shudder* Nor 
let it be believed that the courage 
boasted by such a character is genuine* 
d2 



30 

Will genuine courage impel to a con- 
test where there is no rational induce- 
ment to undergo discomfiture, and 
where success cannot be hoped ? Will 
it prompt its possessor to rush on the 
terrors of an exploding volcano, and 
await in defying attitude the down- 
pour of its flaming deluge? Is it 
courage then, or is it the delirium of a 
moral disease, that sends a man into 
collision with the laws and omnipo- 
tence of God, and places him under 
the descent of his menaced retribution? 
Oh ! for a voice to awake him from so 
fatal a delusion. "The fear of the 
Lord is the beginning of knowledge ; 
but fools despise wisdom and instruc- 
tion." 

But there are those, who professing 
an exalted zeal for the obligations of 
virtue and the sanctities of religion, at- 
tempt to vindicate their rejection of the 
peculiar doctrines of revelation on the 
ground that they are superfluous, inas- 



31 

much as piety and virtue may exist 
where they are disbelieved; and that 
they are injurious, as tending to dissolve 
the sense of moral obligation altogether. 
In their opinion the fear of God may 
not only flourish in all the vigour of 
its practical influence without the 
faith of the New Testament, but is 
absolutely incompatible with the exis- 
tence of such a faith. So objects the 
Deist ; and so, be it remarked, objects 
many a nominal Christian. So iden- 
tical is the ff enmity" in every human 
heart — the pride of self-dependence, 
that builds up its own and revolts 
against the righteousness of God — 
that imagines security where it cannot 
be found, and will not see it where it 
is ! On the banks of the Ganges, as 
in European society, by the learned 
blasphemer and the untutored savage, 
the same cavil is urged in justifica- 
tion of the same unbelief, rejecting 
the only method by which a sinner 



32 

may reasonably hope to find accept- 
ance with a righteous God. Still we 
are told that virtue and piety may 
flourish although not on hallowed 
ground, and that Christianity in its 
genuine form is unfavourable to their 
production, while the evidence of fact 
on either side refutes the double asser- 
tion. There are, relative to religion, 
three grand distinctions in the world 
— superstition, infidelity, and the faith 
of the Bible. To one or other of the 
two former every shade of unbelief 
may be referred. Now the persons 
for whose benefit the present observa- 
tions are intended, admit the demora- 
lizing tendency of superstition in all 
its forms, and it is therefore unneces- 
sary to bring forward any further evi- 
dence that it contains in it elements 
destructive of the fear of God. The 
self-mortifying devotee is the only ap- 
parent exception to this, and the ex- 
ception is no more than apparent. 



33 

For if man be a sinful being, as con- 
science testifies to every individual who 
at all reflects on his moral condition, 
what so much becomes him, in his ap- 
proaches to God, as a self-abasing 
spirit and sense of unworthiness ? But 
what traits are more distant than 
these from the character of supersti- 
tion's ardent votary ? Are not all his 
austerities based on the belief that, 
guilty as he is, and fallen, he yet pos- 
sesses a re-ascending power, and by 
its exertion may finally glory in the 
grand result of his vindication self- 
effected under the eye of God? Do 
not they originate altogether in blind 
and self-justifying pride ? And can this 
be a constituent part of genuine religion 
in a sinner ? Then for the tendency of 
infidelity, even under its most plau- 
sible appearances, does not the history 
of nations and the observation of every 
day sufficiently vouch? Are not in- 
fidels in general notorious for their 



34 

contempt of moral decorum, except so 
far as society around may impose on 
them a restraint reluctantly borne ? 
May we not with confidence affirm 
that a pious, a truly and practically 
pious Deist, is a character unknown — 
so entirely unknown that the very 
mention of it sounds anomalous and 
absurd? Facts then evince that the 
fear of God in its uncounterfeited 
worth cannot be found beyond the 
limits of vital Christianity. May we 
not triumphantly refer to the same 
evidence in proof that within those 
limits it is found ? We forbear to ap- 
peal to the annals of her martyrs and 
her missionaries — we pass over (so far 
as the present argument is concerned), 
the meek yet supernatural fortitude of 
the former, in enduring a weight of 
unparalleled affliction for the cause 
their unblemished lives adorned ; and 
the untired zeal, the holy and unos- 
tentatious labours of the latter, for the 



35 

benefit of thankless and distrustful 
barbarians, far from the well-known 
and for ever renounced enjoyments of 
home, of country, and refined society. 
These, we admit, are not the every- 
day effects of Christianity, although 
they are effects to which no parallel 
can be found in the history of any 
other religion. But we appeal to the 
manifested efficacy of her doctrines 
in the present age and in our own 
land, in every rank of society from 
the highest to the lowest, where they 
are known in their simplicity and un- 
feignedly loved. Where are the de- 
moralizing effects of evangelical truth? 
If every thing highly estimated must 
have its counterfeit, and personal 
piety must have hers, is it not known, 
however, that so elevated is the stand- 
ard and practice of morals among the 
professors of the Gospel, that hypo- 
crisy is constrained, in order to pass 
for piety among them, to assume an 



36 

outward semblance of sanctified dis- 
positions and moral superiority ? And 
if the Gospel tended to demoralize, 
should we hear, as we continually do, 
the charge of peculiar and overbur- 
thening strictness brought against its 
disciples ? We might, then, rest the 
refutation of the cavil in question, on 
the evidence of facts themselves which 
have proved, and still prove, on the 
one hand, that there is no genuine 
fear of God apart from Christianity, 
and on the other, that Christianity in 
its genuine form is ever productive of 
that principle. 

The words of the Psalmist at pre- 
sent before us appear to contain a two- 
fold assertion also. " There is for- 
giveness with thee that thou mayest 
be feared" — language implying, that 
without a sense of his forgiveness the 
fear of God cannot exist, and that 
with it it will ever co-exist. It will 
be interesting, and may be profitable 



3; 

to examine, whether, in our moral 
condition, and in the nature of the 
human mind, materials may be found 
for a vindication of this assertion. 
It would be indeed profanely presump- 
tuous to offer to the believer any proof 
of its truth but the fact of its being 
found on the pages of revelation, and 
the coincident testimony of other in- 
spired declarations ; but to those who 
either professedly or practically disre- 
gard the authority of the divine word, 
it is lawful, and by the divine blessing 
may be beneficial, to attempt the ge- 
neral argument by which the assertion 
may be substantiated. 

1. We will suppose that a man who, 
in either form alluded to, rejects the 
doctrine of the New Testament, at- 
tains a thorough conviction of the ne- 
cessity of personal religion, according 
to his own notions of it. We will sup- 
pose him in the first place to investi- 
gate with a deep seriousness becom- 

E 



38 

ing its importance, the relation in 
which he stands to God, with all the 
obligations arising out of it. He 
gives up his mind, we will add, to a 
full admission of the truth that he is 
bound by the light and dictates of his 
conscience, and by gratitude for innu- 
merable blessings and forbearances, 
to render to the Most High a homage 
in which the heart and understanding 
shall engage, and to rule the tenor of 
his life by his convictions of duty to- 
ward Him. At times he is over- 
whelmed, as he well may be, by the 
apprehended magnitude of so awful a 
relation, and his mind sinks within 
him at the bare possibility of a failure 
in meeting the momentous obligations 
it imposes upon him. What if it 
should at last appear that the solicita- 
tions of passion overpowered the sense 
of duty, and prevailed over all the 
convictions of his better mind, making 
Ms life but a course of ingratitude and 



39 

guilt ? And then he considers the ex- 
tent of his duty, and allows the justice 
of the sentiment that ascribes to God 
a judicial cognizance over the thoughts 
of our inward, no less than over the 
actions of our outward, existence. In 
vain, he is aware, may we expect di- 
vine approval to reward a studious 
affectation of external propriety, while 
the sources of action, the affections, 
are uncleansed within us. But how 
complicated, and often how doubtful 
to ourselves, are the motives that im- 
pel us to the most plausible conduct ! 
How great the difficulty of making, 
uniformly and steadily, the conviction 
of conscience the guide of our actions, 
and of living as responsible to a divine 
authority! Is there not on every 
heart a superincumbent and over- 
whelming weight, when by the exer- 
tion of its native energies it would 
rise to the love of rectitude, and en- 
large itself with the liberty of virtue ? 



40 

And in despite of the deepest convic- 
tions, the most zealous resolutions, and 
most strenuous efforts, are not the 
best of men betrayed by infirmity into 
the hands of guilt, so as daily to fall 
short of the moral standard which 
they have proposed to themselves ? 
Nor can he be ignorant, however 
highly he may estimate his own cha- 
racter, that he too, like all other men, 
has his imperfections to correct, and 
his failings to mourn. What if they 
should be found, when God shall make 
up their estimate, to overbalance in 
the divine judgment all the amount of 
his virtues ? What if the latter should 
appear so blended and polluted with 
the workings of depravity, as to be 
worthless in the view of infinite per- 
fection ? What if the final investiga- 
tion which his character is destined to 
undergo shall be conducted with all 
the rigid exactitude of eternal justice, 
and the resulting verdict be pro- 



41 

nounced by the voice of unerring 
truth ? What if he shall indeed be 
weighed in the balance of the sanc- 
tuary above, and found wanting? God 
is merciful he knows by the evidence 
of a thousand bounties daily showered 
on a world of folly and of guilt ; but 
conscience darkly intimates to him the 
alarming suspicion that God is righte- 
ous no less than he is merciful — and 
if righteousness hath indeed set bounds 
to the continuance of mercy, how shall 
the guilty finally escape? It may 
consist with the most perfect righte- 
ousness to leave room for repentance, 
but not to leave room for eternal im- 
punity. Many as are the displays of 
divine mercy in our present life, yet 
they are significantly qualified by 
many co-existing inflictions, evils di- 
vinely permitted to link themselves to 
the folly and criminality of man. 
What if it shall be found that provi- 
sion was made for a more thorough 
e2 



42 

and lasting union between suffering 
and guilt in a future life? Solemn 
reflections these, and that may well 
be supposed to trouble him. Whither 
shall he resort for relief? Who shall 
charm away for ever these disquieting 
thoughts from his breast ? Who shall 
introduce in their stead a well- 
grounded confidence of divine accep- 
tance, and enable him to look out on 
eternity with undaunted eyes? The 
atonement, if realized, will indeed 
meet his condition, and set every thing 
right. It will solve all his difficulties, 
and remove all cause of disquietude. 
It will bring deity before him in a new 
character, invested with a wondrous 
and designed adaptation to the sin- 
ners state. It will present for bis 
happy contemplation a plan whose de- 
velopement has made it appear that 
the Judge of all can advance to the 
full exercise of mercy toward the 
most criminal of mankind, without 



43 

departing in the minutest degree from 
the majesty of his character ; and the 
sinfulness of man may be brought into 
safe contact with the holiness of God. 
But if the process of his mind issue in 
a different result, and his rejection of 
the atonement become finally con- 
firmed, — under the influence of the 
fears that agitate him What course 
will he take ? He casts his eyes 
around him to discover some door of 
hope beside that which God has re- 
vealed — but there is none. No other 
religion offers a solution of his difficul- 
ties, a consolation of his distress, that 
can win from him the glance of a mo- 
mentary attention — nor can imagina- 
tion carve out for him that which his 
condition requires in any other quar- 
ter than the one where he has rejected 
it. Behold him, then, aware of his re- 
sponsibility to God, aware in some 
degree of failure in the attempted dis- 
charge of it, and yet destitute of every 



44 

reasonable ground of conviction that 
forgiveness and favor await him at 
the divine tribunal ! Can he perse- 
vere in efforts to attain peace of con- 
science that have never yet proved 
satisfactory, and that promise for the 
future no better result? Can he go 
on still in his endeavours to please a 
Being on whose acceptance of him he 
has no right and no reason to calcu- 
late? The longer those endeavours 
are continued, the more will his sense 
of guilt, and consequent inquietude, 
accumulate ; for every day will add 
to the acknowledged amount of his 
deficiencies and infractions of duty; 
and a longer and still lengthening dis- 
tance will stretch out between him 
and the phantom of self-justification 
which he pursues. Is it then unrea- 
sonable to conclude, that as the expec- 
tation of attaining his object declines, 
the desire to attain it will diminish also 
— that as he more deeply experiences 



45 

the impracticable nature of his at- 
tempt to satisfy conscience and come 
up to the requirements of duty, his 
zeal will gradually die into sullen apa- 
thy (confirmed as he is in rejecting the 
only cure of his condition), and he 
will commence a retrograde career 
whose limits none may define ? It is 
morally impossible to serve God in 
cheerful perseverance, without a well- 
founded hope of finally finding his 
favour. It belongs to our nature that 
we must renounce the pursuit of what 
our reason and experience have 
joined in pronouncing unattainable. 
Without the knowledge of his for- 
giveness there can be no genuine and 
abiding fear of God. The son, secure 
of paternal affection, has a motive to 
encourage him in a joyful acquiescence 
with his fathers righteous will; but 
the slave, conscious of guilt, and ap- 
prehensive of retribution, whatever 
service he may render to his master* 



46 

cannot render him the service of the 
heart* In the latter case, indeed, the 
fear of immediate retribution operates, 
and compels to an outward, but reluct- 
ant and lifeless obedience — in the case 
of the unenlightened sinner the dread 
of a retribution which, except in the 
visible approach of death, he ever 
flatters himself is distant, will operate 
with far less efficacy in producing the 
outward and ill-borne restraint which 
is all that at best it can ever produce. 
We do not affirm that the whole of 
this picture has ever been realized in 
the history of any individual. On the 
contrary we believe that just views of 
our responsibility to the Supreme Be- 
ing, with an unfeigned sense of moral 
deficiency, will invariably issue in a 
willingness to embrace the Gospel.* 
We only affirm that could such views 
and feelings issue in a confirmed rejec- 

* John vii. 17. 



47 

tion of the Gospel, such is human 
nature, that the consequence we have 
described must ensue. To feel as a 
sinner ought to feel toward a righteous 
God, and reject the only known or 
rationally conceivable means of accept- 
ance with Him, and then to persevere 
in endeavouring to fulfil his require- 
ments without an authorized hope of 
his final approbation, we regard as a 
moral impossibility. But if the unre- 
claimable enemies of the Gospel reject 
not it alone, but every sentiment which 
demonstrably becomes them respect- 
ing their relation to the Supreme 
Being, and actual moral condition, as 
it must lie before His view, how can 
their conduct admit of vindication? 
And such we believe to be universally 
the fact. They cherish an ill-founded 
estimate of their responsibility and 
their state, and therefore see not the 
necessity of the Gospel provisions. 
They love to underrate duty, to think 



48 

lightly of sin, and therefore despise 
and dislike the salvation that makes 
an end of sin, and brings in everlasting 
acquittal. " Every one that doeth evil 
hateth the light, lest his deeds should 
be reproved." 

2. It has, we hope, been satisfac- 
torily shown that the fear of God, in 
the true sense of the expression, can- 
not be severed from reliance on the 
Mediator. It is now to be shown that 
the latter principle will ever be at- 
tended by the former as its necessary 
result — or that, according to the in- 
timation of the Psalmist, the effect of 
forgiveness communicated from God 
will be that he shall be feared. This 
is ihe great seeming paradox of Chris- 
tianity. Assurance of forgiveness, in 
the opinion of many, must undo the 
springs of obedience, and induce 
habitual indifference to the obligations 
of moral principle. Why, say they, if 
secure of divine favour, must the soul 



49 

be any longer solicitous about it ? And 
if exempt from all cause of solicitude 
on that score, can she be expected to 
toil and persevere in well-doing, as 
when her toiling and persevering are 
believed to earn her security? The 
effect of forgiveness, we reply, depends 
not on the mere fact of forgiveness, 
but much more on the mode in which 
forgiveness is conveyed. If it be so 
conveyed as to leave the impression 
on the receiver's mind that the guilt 
remitted is of little or no moment in 
the estimation of him who remits it, 
it will evidently tend to slacken obe- 
dience, by inducing the persuasion that 
a renewal of guilt will be followed by 
a similar impunity — and such is the 
case of mere indulgence. But if it be 
so conveyed as to impress the convic- 
tion that while the guilty is absolved, 
his guilt is abhorred by the very party 
absolving him, it cannot induce the 
habit of regarding duty as a light 

F 



50 

thing, because it will bring along with 
it a well-grounded apprehension that 
the guilt so remitted cannot always be 
incurred with safety — and such is the 
case of accepted atonement. And the 
absolving party demonstrates his ab- 
horrence of the guilt he forgives by 
the magnitude of the atonement he 
accepts — proportionable to which will 
consequently be the tendency of the 
whole transaction to deter the offender 
from future transgression. If the 
atonement accepted be such as not to 
admit of being made again, so as to 
leave no hope of renewed forgiveness 
in case of reincurred guilt, this ten- 
dency to deter from transgression will 
exist in the greatest degree. A mas- 
ter may, if his disposition lead him to 
it, weakly indulge the criminality of a 
servant, whose offences have rendered 
him liable to legal penalties — and such 
indulgence will obviously encourage 
disobedience. Or he may, as a mat- 



51 

ter of grace, accept satisfaction for the 
wrong committed, where he could not 
be required to accept it as a matter of 
justice. According as the satisfaction 
is more or less proportionable to the 
wrong, it will more or less beneficially 
influence the future conduct of the 
offender, as it will more or less strik- 
ingly demonstrate the hatred in which 
his offence is held by him who has 
wiped it out. If it be a satisfaction 
that can never more be repeated, it 
will powerfully plead against the repe- 
tition of an offence for which forgive- 
ness hae already exhausted her stores. 
A mere manifestation of indulgence on 
the part of God may be supposed ca- 
pable of emboldening the guilt so 
treated. But the acceptance of an 
atonement on behalf of the guilty — of 
an atonement fully proportioned to 
the magnitude of their offence — of an 
atonement that never can be made a 
second time — declares the divine ha- 



52 

tred of the offence in the most expres- 
sive manner, and removing every pre- 
text for future presumption on divine 
lenity; sets up the most effectual 
warning against a return into the path 
of criminality. Such is the atonement 
which God has accepted, an atonement 
infinite in dignity, and incapable of 
repetition, for in him, by whom it has 
been offered, " dwelleth all the full- 
ness of the Godhead bodily;" and 
" Christ being raised from the dead 
dieth no more, death hath no more 
dominion over him ;" so that " if we 
sin wilfully after we have received the 
knowledge of the truth, there re- 
maineth no more sacrifice for sin." 
Thus the atonement of Christ — while 
it holds out a sure hope of final ac- 
ceptance, to him who relies upon it, 
and furnishes him with the encourage- 
ment without which it has been 
proved impracticable to persevere in 
the attempted service of God — at the 



53 

same time demonstrating, by its uncal- 
eulated magnitude, God's infinite ab- 
horrence of the guilt for which it was 
made, warns the accepted from a re- 
currence to the rebellion for which no 
second expiation remains. Not that 
all sin is that rebellion. The recon- 
ciled spirit is compassed with the in- 
firmities of flesh, and by them incapa- 
citated, while they continue, from 
entire coincidence with the line of 
undeviating perfection — but she is 
willing to walk by it ; and wilful, deli- 
berate, final desertion of it is now the 
inexpiable offence. To that offence 
indeed the enlightened mind is con- 
scious every sin in itself tends, and 
will therefore abhor the idea of indulg- 
ing any. Hence while the belief of the 
atonement supplies a peace with God 
which no other source can supply, it 
furnishes at once the animating, cheer- 
ing impulse to obedience, and the po- 
tent influence deterring from trans- 
f2 



54 

gression, which nothing else can ori- 
ginate, and the sinner's condition re- 
quires. The sense of safety it pro- 
duces does not enfeeble the principle 
of virtue, nor the control it imposes 
lessen the sense of safety. It gives 
birth to an authorized confidence of 
present and final acceptance, thus 
removing the obstacle to obedience 
that existed before in the want of such 
a confidence; and at the same time 
implants a conviction of the deepest 
nature that God and sin are for ever 
irreconcileable, and no further inter- 
position of his mercy can be expected 
to throw oblivion over renewed and 
final revolt. All sin is covered by the 
atonement, except the continued re- 
jection of it ; and such rejection is 
implied in a final return to voluntary 
guilt. This limitation is obviously 
involved in the very nature of the 
case. The atonement, received on the 
sinners part, covers all sin, because it 



55 

is of infinite dignity; but, if finally 
scorned, leaves no hope of escape, for 
then forgiveness itself, in its only ap- 
pointed form, has been refused. 

In this two-fold operation of diverse 
yet compatible principles, animating 
confidence and controlling awe, we 
behold something wonderfully and 
beautifully adapted to our nature and 
condition. The profoundness of di- 
vine wisdom is brought before us. 
The exquisite adjustment, the happy 
counterbalance, the peculiar effect, 
bespeak the operation of a perfect 
skill where all inferior had failed. 
Superstition, philosophy, did each her 
uttermost in vain— but the belief of an 
atonement prevails ; and there is for- 
giveness with God that he may be 
feared. When some piece of most de- 
licate workmanship is renovated by a 
master-hand, after all others have 
failed to touch its disordered springs 
with effect, and restore their intended 



56 

movements, we are at no loss where 
to attribute its origin ; and the fact of 
the Gospel having supplied the grand 
desideratum in the moral condition of 
man, will lead the thoughts of every 
serious mind to God as its Author. 



57 



SEBIOI III. 



ON THE NATURE OF FAITH. 

Rom. x. 9. 

" If thou shalt confess with thy mouth 
the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in 
thy heart that God hath raised him 
from the dead, thou shalt be saved." 

A slight acquaintance with the Bible 
is sufficient to show that the word 
" heart" is there employed, not, as 
with us, to denote the affections, but, 
as among the ancients in general, to 
denote the mind with all its powers. 
Therefore as by us the word " mind" 
is employed, whether the faculties, or 



58 

the affections, be specially intended, 
because of its signification compre- 
hending both of these ; in like manner 
is the word " heart" employed in the 
Old and New Testaments. Thus we 
read of loving with the heart, of under- 
standing with the heart, and, in the 
passage prefixed to this discourse, of 
believing in the heart. If, indeed, faith 
be not simple belief, but what many 
learned theologians have deemed it, 
confident expectation or trust, then the 
heart, even in the modern use of the 
term, may be regarded as in some mea- 
sure the seat of faith. To a simple stu- 
dent of divine truth, drawing his doc- 
trines from the page of inspiration only, 
and ignorant of the cloud of many con- 
troversies that has settled over theo- 
logy 5 it might be matter of surprise to 
learn that a difference of opinion exists 
concerning the nature of faith. It would 
be interesting, and might be instruc- 
tive, to observe the effect of a sudden 



59 

disclosure of this fact, on the mind of 
such a person. The pain which may 
be supposed to accompany his surprise 
would be diminished, however, when 
he knew that if the wise and good 
have differed on a subject apparently 
so plain, they have been animated on 
either side by a zeal unfeigned in the 
cause of pure and undefiled religion. 

Yet if it be an error to suppose faith 
in religion different in kind from all 
other faith, it is one not wholly un- 
natural ; since religious faith un- 
doubtedly differs from all other in 
its object and origin, the one a di- 
vine testimony, the other a divine 
operation — and differs no less in its 
importance, being indissolubly con- 
nected with holiness of life, and with 
everlasting salvation. Hence it has 
by many been regarded as a compli- 
cated and mysterious principle, whose 
nature can be fully evolved only by the 
profound investigations of philosophical 



60 

theology ; and it has been thought in- 
jurious to its acknowledged dignity 
and importance, to imagine that we 
believe even the testimony of God in 
the very same way wherein we believe 
any other. 

The question whether a doctrine be 
Scriptural or not, can obviously be de- 
cided only by an appeal to the Scrip- 
tures. If it be found substantiated by 
their declarations, and accordant with 
their tenor, abstract argument may 
commend, but cannot overturn it. 
Most plausible theories are every day 
amended, or falsified, by experience ; 
and such cannot for a moment be 
rationally opposed to the wisdom of 
God. The strongest arguments in 
favor of any doctrine conceived to form 
a part in the system of revealed reli- 
gion, must, therefore, be those which 
are drawn directly from Revelation 
itself. We now proceed to examine 
the arguments of this nature adduced 



61 

in support of the opinion that the faith 
of Scripture is not simple belief, but 
confident expectation, or trust. 

1. It is important here to observe 
that the evidence from criticism ad- 
duced in support of this opinion is 
principally defensive. It has been 
established, that the word for ff faith" 
in the original New Testament is ca- 
pable of a two-fold application, and has 
actually been employed by the inspired 
w r riters, not only in the simple meaning 
of belief, but also in the complex 
meaning of trust. On the opposite 
side, the principal evidence adduced 
from criticism has a more than defen- 
sive character. It has been established, 
that of the two meanings of which the 
original word is capable, belief is the 
primary r , and trust a derivative mean- 
ing ; and since it may be fairly con- 
sidered a sound rule of interpretation, 
never to depart from the primary 
meaning of a word, unless where the 

G 



62 

tenor of the context indicates another, 
it follows, in the case in question, that 
" belief" is the natural rendering, from 
which every departure will require to 
be defended. In favor of the one 
rendering, and consequently against 
the other, there exists a general pre- 
sumption. In all passages, therefore, 
wherein either rendering in itself may 
be equally applicable, " belief," as the 
natural one, ought to be preferred; 
and we hope to shew hereafter that 
such a principle of interpretation, 
undeniably just, arranges under the 
natural rendering a great majority of 
passages. In most of those commonly 
quoted to prove that faith is trust, it 
will appear that the meaning of belief 
is at least equally reconcileable with 
the context. 

That persuasion or belief is the pri- 
mary, and trust a derivative meaning, 
of the original word, will be clear to 
the English reader, when he remem- 



63 

bers that so much is constantly af- 
firmed on one, and admitted on the 
other, side of the present argument. 
Concerning the corresponding word 
in the Hebrew original an equally ge- 
neral admission is not made ; but since 
the New Testament is an infallible 
commentary on the Old, when we have 
been enabled to fix the meaning of a 
word in the former, the meaning of 
the word corresponding with it in the 
latter may be considered as fixed at 
the same time. The radical idea of 
the Hebrew word for faith is admitted 
to be stability ; from which the mean- 
ing of belief, or firm persuasion, may 
be, at least, as naturally derived, as 
that of trust.* 

* Nor ought it to be forgotten that for trust, in 
the original language of the Old Testament, is found 
an additional word, which all allow is never rendered 
in the version of the Seventy with the same word as 
the other is — a fact for which ingenuity on the other 
side of the present question can only account by re- 



64 

In thus pleading evidence furnished 
by criticism against the opinion we 
have - ventured to dispute, it will be 
seen that we have proceeded solely on 
the ground of admissions made by 
those who support it. Such a mode of 
reasoning may be appreciated by those 
on whom, from want of acquaintance 
with the original Scriptures, any criti- 
cal research on our own side of the 

ferring it to the observance of a rule which the In- 
terpreters thought fit to adopt. If we ask why they 
adopted such a rule, what reply can be given, but 
that they were influenced by some apprehended rea- 
son — and what reason can be imagined except their 
conviction, that to the one Hebrew word belongs 
primarily the meaning of belief, and that of trust to 
the other ? The version of the seventy Interpreters 
is not, indeed, an infallible commentary ; but com- 
posed, as it was, by the learned of an age when an- 
cient Greek was a living tongue, and Hebrew had 
not wholly ceased to be so, there is a presumption 
that it must throw some peculiar light on the com- 
parative obscurity of the one by the more familiar 
phraseology of the other. 



65 

question could hardly be expected to 
produce effect. 

2. In bringing forward passages of 
Scripture as decisive evidence for any 
opinion, it is obviously not enough to 
prove them capable of a sense favora- 
ble to it ; it ought also to be shown 
that they are incapable of any other. 
By the former proceeding the opinion 
is only reconciled with the quoted 
passages ; by the latter it is established 
upon them- Yet in theological discus- 
sion this has not always been remem- 
bered ; and in the case before us there 
are not wanting instances wherein it 
has been overlooked. A number of 
passages have been adduced where the 
word faith will bear the sense of trust 9 
consistently with their general tenor ; 
and then the question whether faith be 
trust, or simple belief, has been con- 
sidered as decided. But it was not 
considered that if the word faith ex- 
plained as belief leave the tenor of 
g2 



66 

those passages unviolated, evidence 
decisive of the question at issue must 
be sought elsewhere. One or two ex- 
amples will illustrate this. " When 
he was entered into a ship his disciples 
followed him. And behold there arose 
a great tempest in the sea, insomuch 
that the ship was covered with the 
waves : but he was asleep. And his 
disciples came to him, and awoke him, 
saying, Lord, save us : we perish. And 
he saith unto them, why are ye fearful, 
O ye of little faith ?"* "Behold a 
woman which was diseased with an 
issue of blood twelve years, came be- 
hind him, and touched the hem of his 
garment ; for she said within herself, 
if I may but touch his garment, I shall 
be whole. But Jesus turned him 
about, and when he saw her, he said, 
Daughter, be of good comfort; thy 
faith hath made thee whole."^ On the 

* Matt. 8. f Matt, 9. 



67 

former occasion here described, it is 
admitted there was a want of trust in 
the miraculous protecting power of 
Christ ; and, explaining faith as trust, 
you certainly preserve the harmony of 
the whole account. But it is equally 
clear, that in supposingbelief of Christ's 
almighty power was weak, and want 
of trust in him the consequence, and 
in explaining faith as belief — the har- 
mony of the account is still preserved. 
On the latter occasion described, it is 
admitted there was a trust reposed in 
the miraculous power of Christ ; but, 
if that trust resulted from a firm per- 
suasion of the reality of his miraculous 
power, and of his goodness, here also 
faith may be consistently explained as 
belief. The disciples were rebuked for 
the fears which indicated that, after 
all they had witnessed of the works, 
and experienced of the loving-kind- 
ness of their Lord, a firm persuasion 
of his readiness and ability to save 



68 

had not yet been suffered to settle in 
their minds. The woman healed is 
described as led by such a persuasion 
to repose her confidence in Christ ; and 
virtually admonished by him that this 
persuasion only, not her merit, had 
opened the way for the miracle per- 
formed in her behalf. The same re- 
marks equally apply to a multitude of 
other passages, with which every 
serious person is so familiar, that the 
quotation of them with a similar com- 
ment is unnecessary here. 

If we allow there are passages 
wherein " faith" bears exclusively the 
meaning of trust, be it remembered 
that this is not enough to justify the 
opinion now called in question. In 
order to prove that faith is not simple 
belief, it would be necessary to prove 
that the word is not limited to that 
sense in any one passage, bearing on 
the doctrine of justification. A single 
text) irreconcileable with an opinion. 



69 

overthrows it ; and a single text inti- 
mating that justifying faith is simple 
belief, can never be reconciled with 
the opinion that it is something more. 
On the other hand, in order to estab- 
lish that faith is simple belief, one in- 
stance wherein the word is incapable 
of any other sense, in a passage bear- 
ing on the doctrine of justification, 
will be enough to decide the point ; for 
with such a passage may be recon- 
ciled not only all those before alluded 
to, in which the word is capable of 
either sense, but even those wherein 
it is exclusively limited to that of 
trust. The latter admit of easy ex- 
planation, consistent with the opinion, 
that we are justified by simple belief, 
of which belief trust in the Saviour is 
the natural effect. If we are exhorted 
to believe the Gospel, and belief of it 
naturally produces trust in its Divine 
Author, we may be consistently ex- 
horted to trust in Him, and thereby 



70 

give evidence to ourselves, that we do 
believe. If the belief by which we 
are justified naturally gives rise to 
the hope of glory, and that hope ope- 
rates as a preservative in the soul 
amid the difficulties of the Christian 
way, it is affirmed consistently with 
our justification being through belief 
of the truth, that " we are saved by 
hope" — for which trust, we allow, is 
but a stronger term — or that our 
" confidence hath great recompense of 
reward" — in which sentence, we allow, 
the original word for confidence is 
equivalent to that for faith in one of 
its applications. 

One text would be sufficient to de- 
cide that faith is simple belief — but 
we are not restricted to one. Many 
more might be adduced than we could 
conveniently illustrate within the li- 
mits of a single discourse. " We 
walk by faith, not by sight."* Here 

* 2 Cors. v. 7. 



n 

faith and sight are evidently con- 
trasted. But sight and trust are com- 
patible. An object of sight may be 
also an object of trust. When the 
servant of the prophet beheld, with 
eyes miraculously opened, a heavenly 
host arrayed between him and the 
hostile Syrian army, he saw, and there- 
fore was confident. Sight and trust 
cannot, then, be properly contrasted. 
But nothing can be at once an object 
of belief, and an object of sight. What 
we see exists, is before the eye of 
sense ; but what we believe exists, is 
before the eye of understanding alone. 
Belief and sight may be therefore con- 
trasted with propriety. The former 
must, consequently, be the exclusive 
meaning of faith, in the passage above 
quoted. 

" He that believeth on the Son of 
God hath the witness in himself; he 
that believeth not God hath made 
him a liar ; because he believeth not the 



72 

record that God gave of his Son"* 
Here believing on the Son of God, or 
faith in him, is placed in opposition 
with not believing- God — with making 
Him a liar — with not believing the 
record that He has given of his Son. 
We surely know what faith is, when 
we know what is the opposite of it. 
Not believing the record that God 
gave of his Son is a matter too simple 
to need much explanation. A record 
is properly the object of belief or dis- 
belief — a person that of trust or dis- 
trust. The rejection of divine truth 
must, indeed, be followed by distrust 
of the Saviour whom it reveals ; but 
the unbelief that rejects, and the con- 
sequent distrust are wholly distinct. 
Faith, then, being the opposite of un- 
belief, must, be simply, belief of the 
record that God has given of his Son. 

This will be, perhaps, more strik- 
ingly apparent from the case of the 

* 1 John v. 10. 



73 

Ethiopian eunuch, related in the Acts 
of the Apostles. " A man of Ethiopia, 
an eunuch of great authority under 
Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, who 
had the charge of all her treasure, and 
had come up to Jerusalem to worship, 
was returning, and sitting in his cha- 
riot read Esaias the prophet. Then 
the Spirit said unto Philip, go near, 
and join thyself to this chariot. And 
Philip ran thither to him, and heard 
him read the prophet Esaias, and said, 
understandest thou what thou readest ? 
And he said, how can I, except some 
man should guide me? And he de- 
sired Philip that he would come up, 
and sit with him. The place of the 
Scripture which he read was this : He 
was led as a sheep to the slaughter ; 
and like a lamb dumb before his 
shearer, so opened he not his mouth : 
in his humiliation his judgment was 
taken away ; and who shall declare 
his generation? for his life is taken 

H 



74 

from the earth. And the eunuch an- 
swered Philip, and said, I pray thee of 
whom speaketh the prophet this ? Of 
himself, or of some other man ? Then 
Philip opened his mouth, and began at 
the same Scripture, and preached unto 
him Jesus. And as they went on their 
way, they came unto a certain water; 
and the eunuch said, see, here is wa- 
ter ; what doth hinder me to be bap- 
tized? And Philip said, If thou he- 
lievest tvith all thine heart, thou mayest. 
And he answered and said, J believe 
that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. 
And he commanded the chariot to 
stand still : and they went down both 
into the water, both Philip and the 
eunuch ; and he baptized him"* Here 
it is evident that the faith considered 
by the inspired Evangelist as a prere- 
quisite for baptism on the part of the 
eunuch, was simple belief. On the 

* Acts viii. 



75 

solemn profession of his belief " that 
Jesus Christ is the Son of God," he 
was admitted into Christian fellowship 
by one under the special guidance of 
the Spirit of God. And if the uncon- 
tradicted profession of that belief 
united him to the visible church of 
Christ, the unfeigned possession of it 
united him, doubtless, to the invisible 
church of God's elect. 

We may therefore employ in its 
plain import an Apostle's language — 
" if thou shalt confess with thy mouth 
the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in 
thy heart that God hath raised him 
from the dead, thou shalt be saved.'' 
Here is no mention of the feeling of 
trust. The faith that saves is here 
evidently the belief concerning Jesus, 
that he is Lord of all, and that after 
his vicarious sufferings, God raised him 
from the dead. He who thoroughly 
believes the reality of these things will, 
indeed, as the natural consequence, re- 



76 

pose in Jesus a trust which will ani- 
mate him to the bold confession of His 
name, and to the performance of every 
other duty demanded with the claims of 
a Redeemer. Still we have seen that 
" belief of the truth" is all which en- 
ters into the essence of faith : that must 
ever be distinguished from the effects 
of it. 

But we are told that an apostolical 
exposition of the nature of faith, op- 
posed to the views now advocated, is 
contained in the Epistle to the He- 
brews — " faith is the substance of 
things hoped for" — which some would 
alter thus, " faith is the confident eoc- 
pectation of things hoped for." The 
word for " substance" in the original 
will undoubtedly, of itself, bear the 
meaning thus assigned to it ; although 
it be a derivative only, and not the 
primary, meaning. But observe the 
effect of such a rendering on the whole 
passage — "faith is the confident ea?- 



77 

pectation of things hoped for/' or ex- 
pected — which would reduce the lan- 
guage of inspiration, in this instance, 
to a vain tautology. There is surely 
abundant reason against departing 
to such an interpretation from the na- 
tural and consistent one of our autho- 
rized version. 

3. We shall now consider some ob- 
jections which are brought against the 
opinion we endeavour to substantiate. 
A tendency unfavorable to virtue has 
been attributed to it. If nothing more 
be declared necessary for justification 
than simple belief of the Gospel ; will 
not this, it is demanded, give fatal 
encouragement to the false security of 
the antinomian, and lend to the direst 
perversion of religion her seeming 
countenance ? Let the word belief be 
exchanged for that of faith, and we 
have here the common objection made 
against the doctrine of justification by 
faith only, independent of the question 
h2 



78 

concerning the nature of faith. Justi- 
fication by trust alone, may be, and 
actually is, objected to, no less than 
justification by belief alone. If a man 
be secure of eternal safety when he 
has once trusted in the Redeemer, 
then, it is imagined, he may, and will, 
live as he pleases. What is replied in 
such a case ? It is replied, that trust 
in the Redeemer will be productive of 
love to Him, and reverence toward his 
authority, and therefore will be pro- 
ductive of holiness. The justice of 
this reply obviously depends on the 
reality of the effects attributed to the 
principle of trust in Christ. If the 
effects attributed be real, the objection 
is fully met, and the Gospel, as repre- 
sented, is triumphantly vindicated 
from the charge of unhallowing ten- 
dencies. That they are real, we are 
firmly persuaded. We believe the 
constitution of the human mind must 
be essentially altered, ere trust un- 



79 

feignedly reposed in the Redeemer can 
fail to awaken love and reverence to- 
ward him, or such feelings fail to re- 
generate the heart and character. To 
the same objection, made against the 
doctrine of justification "through be- 
lief of the truth/' we bring the same 
mode of reply. Belief of the Gospel 
will be productive of trust in its Au- 
thor, and consequently of all the effects 
which are justly attributed to that 
feeling. If this be true, the objection 
is equally obviated in the present in- 
stance, as in the former. That it is 
true, and arises also out of the consti- 
tution of the human mind, we shall 
endeavour to prove under a subsequent 
head of this discourse. 

But if such be the effects of belief, 
why, it will be asked, do we read that 
" devils believe and tremble" — that 
".Simon himself believed also," of 
whom, immediately subsequent to be- 
lief, it is recorded that he had neither 



80 

part nor lot in the matter, for his heart 
was not right in the sight of God? 
The effects of any truth believed will 
evidently depend on the nature of the 
truth, and the relation it bears to the 
person believing it. The same truth 
will have different effects according to 
the different views we take of it, and 
the different relations in which we 
stand toward it — if indeed it can then 
be said to be the same. Other causes 
may modify, or hinder, the influence of 
truth, but that cannot concern the pre- 
sent argument. Now it will be granted, 
that although fallen angels know the 
certainty of that truth which God 
has revealed to man, it is a truth which 
bears to them no relation such as it 
bears to us. Our Mediator took not 
up the cause of angels, but that of the 
children of Adam. The Gospel has no 
tidings of joy for them. The strain of 
its invitation can never sound within 
the precincts of their doomed and de- 



81 

solate world. Hence it is impossible 
that the Gospel can be contemplated 
by them, as it may be contemplated 
by men — unless we will suppose that 
any creature can have a nature that 
delights in agony, and loves the image 
of its own just and irreversible con- 
demnation. The Gospel that proposes 
pardon to men, records the final doom 
of devils. They therefore believe it 
and tremble. — It will scarcely be de- 
nied that the sorcerer had incorrect 
views of religion, when he imagined 
" that the gift of God might be pur- 
chased with money." Struck with the 
miracles which he witnessed, he "be- 
lieved" the men by whose intervention 
they were performed to be invested 
with a commission from Heaven, while 
of the spirit of their doctrine he was 
entirely ignorant. His mind was en- 
grossed by other things — and the 
miraculous powers of the Apostolic 
office appeared to him chiefly in the 



82 

light of a valuable and purehaseable 
substitute for his own juggling art* 
He believed, but not the truth as it is 
in Jesus. He did not believe the Gos- 
pel in its applicability to himself. He 
did not realize his condition as a sin- 
ner, and the all-sufficiency of redemp- 
tion. Therefore his heart was un- 
sanctified. Similar observations apply 
to the case of those who have assented 
on evidence to the divine origin of 
Christianity, and continued unin- 
fluenced by her doctrines. They may 
even comprehend, and receive as true, 
the whole system of Christian divinity, 
and yet not believe the Gospel in ap- 
plication to themselves. That which 
every genuine disciple of Christ be- 
lieves is the Gospel as it concerns his 
own soul. This no natural man be- 
lieves, for he believes not the real con- 
dition of his soul. An unregenerate 
person will never be found to entertain 
just views of his own character and 



83 

state before Gocl. He may seem to 
entertain them ; but look farther, and 
you will find them wanting. They are 
not the deep and abiding convictions 
of his mind. Wherever such are, grace 
is, and will be manifested. Hence it 
is impossible that the views of the un- 
regenerate should produce the Chris- 
tian character, since they are not the 
views of a Christian. The thing be- 
lieved in the two cases is really 
different. All that a genuine disciple 
believes of Christianity in application 
to himself is indeed deducible from the 
truth that the records of Christianity 
are divine ; but truth may be believed 
without drawing every inference de- 
ducible from it ; and when this is not 
done, the influence of additional truth 
which might thus be acquired, cannot, 
of course, be experienced. 

4. The feeling of trust arises in 
every instance from something known 
or believed. The order of mental 



84 

proceeding is not originally from trust 
to belief, but from belief to trust. The 
idea of trust in fact presupposes be- 
lief—it is universally admitted to be a 
complex state of mind wherein belief 
and expectation coexist, as it were, in 
combination. Are we then justified 
by the feeling of trust, or by the pa- 
rent principle which produces it ? In 
searching after the principle by means 
of which our justification is effected, 
may w r e not assume as certain that it 
will be found in the originating germ 
of personal religion, whatever that 
may be ? And in tracing personal re- 
ligion up to its commencement in the 
soul, will it not be found in that be- 
lief from which alone the feeling of 
trust can arise, and repentance, love, 
joy, heavenly-mindedness, and every 
other Christian grace ? Why do you 
confide? Because you believe the 
promises of God. Why do you re- 
pent ? Because you also believe the 



85 

threatenings of God. Why do you 
love? Why do you rejoice? Be- 
cause you believe that Christ loved 
you, and gave himself for you. Why 
are you heavenly-minded? Because 
you believe that Heaven is your pur- 
chased inheritance. There is not a 
single grace of the Christian state on 
earth, which is not the offspring of 
belief. Is it, then, by the fountain- 
principle we are justified, or by one of 
the effects that flow from it? Now, 
it is conceded on the other side that 
faith is the gift and work of God in the 
soul, while it is maintained to be a 
complex state of mind, implying 
both expectation and belief. If it be 
wholly the creation of divine influence, 
then it is so as implying belief, no 
less than as implying expectation. 
But if the belief of a genuine disciple 
be the work of the spirit of God, is he 
who is thus the subject of His opera- 
tion left unjustified, until his belief has 
i 



86 

become strong enough to issue in con- 
fidence ? For although belief of the 
Gospel naturally produces confidence 
in its Divine Author, and ever tends to 
produce it, few will be disposed to 
deny, that in many instances a mind 
enlightened from above has long be- 
lieved, ere a feeling of confidence in 
God could be realized. Such is the 
ordinary childhood of faith. 

A truth which is not supposed in 
any degree to involve our interest 
may be believed without influencing 
our conduct ; but not so a truth which 
is known deeply to involve it. The 
truth of the Newtonian system may 
be firmly believed without a single ac- 
tion resulting, because it cannot con- 
cern the personal interest of any indi- 
vidual by what laws the order of na- 
ture is maintained, while eternal Pro- 
vidence actually maintains it. But 
the fact of a wide-spreading confla- 
gration, actually touching his own 



87 

dwelling, may not be believed by any 
man in the enjoyment of his faculties 
and his freedom, without some effect 
on his conduct being produced. It is, 
in like manner, morally impossible to 
believe a wrath impending over us, 
and not flee from it — to realize salva- 
tion offered to us, and not embrace it. 
The relation of the truth to him who 
believes it, is such as to render its 
effect, when believed, actually inevit- 
able. 

5. Faith and hope are distinct — for, 
says the apostle, " now abideth faith, 
hope, charity, these three." But if 
faith be trust, the distinction is gone — 
for it is admitted that trust is only a 
modification of hope. The latter, 
like the former, implies expectation 
and belief ; they only differ in degree, 
trust being a name expressive of the 
stronger degrees of hope. There is no 
possible way of obviating this ; and 
such has been the candid acknow- 



88 

ledgement of some of the ablest wri- 
ters on the opposite side of the ques- 
tion. 

6. If there be one principle more 
strongly stated, or more carefully es- 
tablished, than another, by the in- 
spired writers of the New Testament, 
it is this — that salvation is of grace, 
not of debt — in every instance wholly 
due to divine mercy, not in any de- 
gree to human desert. This will be 
readily admitted on the other side. 
Now an Apostle has recorded that 
salvation is " of faith, that it might be 
by grace' — or, faith has been by the 
divine wisdom selected as the medium 
of our justification, that the freeness of 
justification, and its exclusive origin 
in the grace of God, might be secured 
and manifested. Hence we may con- 
clusively argue that whatever faith be, 
it involves nothing of merit, it is not 
a moral virtue — for if it were, our jus- 
tification would depend, in part at least, 



89 

on our moral goodness, and so would 
not be wholly of grace. But if faith 
be trust in God, it is essentially a 
moral virtue, as has been expressly 
admitted on the other side, particularly 
by a late eminent theologian.* And 
if, after all, our justification before God 
be effected through the medium of a 
moral virtue in ourselves, how is salva- 
tion free — how is it wholly of grace ? 
It may be answered, that God implants 
within us the moral virtue by which 
we are justified, and thus our justifica- 
tion is still due to him alone — but the 
same defence is offered every day for 
the doctrine of justification by works, 
every legalist admitting with Bossuet, 
that our good works are so many gifts 
of divine grace. Yet an Apostle de- 

* While fully sharing in the just veneration which 
every Christian mast feel for the talents and piety 
of President Dwight, I may be allowed without sus- 
picion of disrespect to either, to refer to his " Theo- 
logy*" in proof of the assertion made above, 

i2 



90 

clares " it is not of works lest any man 
should boast" — justification must not 
be the effect of works, from whatever 
source they proceed, for if it were, 
pride would be the consequence, in a 
nature fallen as ours. But if faith be 
a moral virtue, it is, in Scriptural lan- 
guage, a work (as every one familiar 
with the New Testament will acknow- 
ledge), and if we are justified by faith 
so explained, we are justified by a work. 
On the other hand, belief, although it 
is productive of every virtue, does not 
in itself involve the nature of any ; it 
is a simple act of the understanding, 
distinct from every affection, and there- 
fore having in it nothing moral. Hence 
being justified by simple belief of the 
divine testimony, our justification is 
purely free, it is entirely of grace — it 
is effected in such a way as to exclude 
every pretext for pride, and at the 
same time every just cause of guilty 
fear. — The importance of all this to 



91 

our comfort may be easily shown. If 
we are justified by confidence in God, 
we can only recognize our justification 
as often as we recognize this moral 
virtue within us. Need it be remarked 
how often the timid yet sincere be- 
liever may fail to discover, to his own 
satisfaction, its existence in his bosom ? 
He can at all times declare, I know in 
whom I have believed and do believe 
— he cannot always feel the vigorous 
actings of belief in full and assured 
confidence in God ; if his justification 
were dependant on the latter, he might 
be a humble believer, adorning his 
profession by his life, and yet con- 
sistently feel himself in a state of con- 
demnation before God. If it please 
divine wisdom to bring a cloud of 
despondency over the prospects of his 
soul, he has, on such a supposition, no 
right to commune w 7 ith Heaven out of 
the midst of his thick darkness.— The 
Apostle Peter was taught of God, con- 



92 

sequently a genuine believer, and con- 
sequently justified, before his denial 
of his Lord — at the period of his 
fall he obviously exercised no confi- 
dence in God, and therefore if we are 
justified by confidence, he on that 
occasion forfeited his justification. 
But our blessed Lord has declared 
that the believer " shall never perish" 
nor come into condemnation. That 
justification, once effected, is final, will, 
indeed, be admitted on the other side 
of this argument. Peter it appears, 
then, was a believer, but a weak one, 
yet finally justified, before, and even 
during, his fall, when faith was too 
feeble in him to sustain such a con- 
fidence in God as was needful to give 
him triumph over his powerful temp- 
tation. By virtue and in right of his 
final justification, he was raised and 
recovered, he was given grace to re- 
pent, and thenceforth live devoted to 
Him who restored him. On the other 



93 

hand we are persuaded that belief of 
the truth, however it may be over- 
borne in its influence by the power of 
temptation, and in a season of spiritual 
declension, can never, even for a time, 
be wholly eradicated from the mind 
wherein it has once been divinely im- 
planted. " I have prayed for thee 
that thy faith fail not" was said to 
Peter, by him whose intercession can 
never be vain, and who while thus 
praying for him, foresaw and foretold 
his subsequent temptation with the re- 
sult of it. Peter's faith was therefore 
counteracted for a while, but, even 
while thus counteracted, failed not 
utterly. While he denied his Re- 
deemer with an oath, he knew him. 
It was this that smote him, when 
Jesus turned and looked upon him, in 
the hour of his sin. It is thus with 
every backslider who has truly known 
the Lord. " If we sin wilfully after 
we have received the knowledge of the 



94 

truth, there remaineth no more sacri- 
fice for sin" — the child of God, once 
enlightened, is therefore kept, in his 
season of declension, from that utter 
rejection of divine truth which would 
involve wilful and unpardonable sin, 
A man however may seem to believe, 
and then apostatize, and afterwards 
come indeed to the knowledge of the 
truth. 

7. Before we leave the present sub- 
ject, it may not be amiss to notice an 
interesting inquiry with which it is re- 
lated — why is faith essential to justifi- 
cation? That it is so by divine ap- 
pointment is evident, for while it is 
written " being justified by faith we 
have peace with God" — it is declared 
of him who believes not that " the 
wrath of God abideth on him." The 
solution of this inquiry offered by a 
celebrated writer, is, that faith has been 
chosen as the instrument of our justifi- 
cation, because it is that whereby we are 



95 

united to Christ. It may appear pre- 
sumptuous to question an opinion re- 
commended by the profound intellect 
and preeminent piety of such a writer* 
— but truth ought to be dearer even 
than his name. Our objection to his 
answer is founded on the consideration 
that it requires explanation no less 
than the thing professedly explained 
by it; and even when this second ex- 
planation bas been obtained, it fails to 
afford satisfaction. " We are justified 
by faith (he says) because it is faith 
that unites to Christ." But then the 
question presents itself, in what sense 
does faith unite to Christ? And the 
answer must be, in a figurative sense 
only. If it were in a literal sense, and 
we by faith actually participated in the 
divine essence of Christ, nothing could 
be clearer than the reason why justifi- 
cation has been annexed to faith — for 

* President Edwards. 



96 

we should, in that case, by faith possess, 
inherently in ourselves, the very righ- 
teousness of Christ. But faith unites 
to Christ only in a figurative sense. 
We are judicially considered one with 
him, by the imputation of his righte- 
ousness; and we imbibe, imperfectly 
indeed, his mind and character, on 
believing his Gospel. Now the very 
difficulty in question is, why the impu- 
tation of Christ's righteousness has 
been connected with faith ? Might we 
venture to suggest a reply it would be 
to the following effect. To leave in 
open revolt against the divine authority 
one who is justified, were manifestly 
inconsistent with the divine character. 
It is by faith, or belief of revealed 
truth, that we lay down the standard 
of revolt, accept the Gospel amnesty, 
and pass into a state of reconciliation 
with God. Hence appears the pro- 
priety with which faith has been 
essentially connected with justification. 



97 

That God might be just while justifying 
the ungodly, it was needful to bring 
him, coincidently with his justification, 
into a state of reconciliation. This he 
effects by implanting in his mind belief 
of the Gospel. It is not that we are 
justified by the meritorious nature of 
our submission to God, for the latter is 
not faith, but its effect — he who jus- 
tifies, at the same time imparts the 
gift of faith, whereby he reconciles us 
to himself. Belief of the Gospel, hav- 
ing in itself nothing of a moral nature, 
yet being in its operation uniformly 
instrumental to our reconciliation with 
God, has been unalterably connected 
with our justification, to secure both 
the freeness of it, and its consistency 
with the character of God. 






ON THE GUILT OF UNBELIEF. 
John iii. 19. 



" 77m* is the condemnation, that light is 
come into the world, and men loved 
darkness rather than light, because 
their deeds were evil." 

When the author of the Paradise 
Lost represents the fallen angels as 
attempting to charm away with intel- 
lectual exercise the horrors of their 
awful condition, he assigns for the 
subject of their reasonings, " fixed fate, 
free will, foreknowledge absolute," and 
tells us that of their deliberations they 
" found no end, in wandering mazes 



99 

lost." An intelligence, superior to 
human, might indeed be consistently 
represented as baffled by a theme so 
intricate and profound ; and devils 
might without impropriety be de- 
scribed as prying into secrets of om- 
niscience unnecessary to be known, 
and impossible to be discovered. But 
although there are quicksands here, 
in which the most keen-eyed explorers 
have lost themselves, there is in the 
vicinity certain solid ground, whereon 
the understanding, guided by Revela- 
tion, may carry on a successful in- 
quiry ; and although beyond a certain 
limit we can find none to conduct us 
but a presumptuous and vain curiosity, 
yet up to that limit the humility of 
Christians may attend us, and no un- 
profitable return await the labour of 
investigation. Human life is too limited 
to afford leisure more than sufficient 
for the pursuit of what is useful ; our 
good ought therefore to be the aim of 



100 

our inquiries ; and until the mine of 
real wisdom be exhausted, let that of 
barren speculation be neglected. Ex- 
perience has manifested, that the 
Creator has so constituted all things, 
and so narrowed the faculties of man, 
that what is needful to be apprehended 
lies within the reach of inquiry, and 
what is not essential to our well-being 
is alone beyond our attainment. It 
is the overlooking of this maxim that 
has given occasion to so many a fai- 
lure in the case under our considera- 
tion ; but with such a clue in our 
hands we may enter and escape the 
labyrinth. 

In the words selected as the sub- 
ject of our present discourse, the 
Redeemer denounces the rejection of 
his Gospel as criminal — it shall be our 
endeavour to expound his solemn cle- 
4 claration, and commend it to your 
consciences. We have undertaken to 
prove that unbelief is justly punish- 



101 

able by the jurisdiction of heaven ; and 
that neither the revealed doctrine of 
our natural depravity, nor that of di- 
vine predestination, can in any wise 
affect the responsibility of man. It 
will easily be granted, that if such in- 
deed shall prove the truth, in the great 
day, when all controversies are to be 
decided, it is a matter of no small im- 
portance whether we are now lulled 
into moral lethargy by the fearful de- 
lusion that no accountability attaches 
to our state, or roused into salutary 
alarm, by a just view of that account- 
ability, and led to serious reflection on 
our condition before God. 

1. We are far from denying that the 
Scriptures attribute to human nature, 
not merely a liability to moral evil, 
but an actual moral depravity. They 
do not, like the wise of the world, re- 
present man as born originally fair, 
but frail — as bringing into the arena 
of life a nature unsullied as the driven 
k2 



102 

snow, but subsequently borne down and 
fouled in a crowd of powerful tempta- 
tions and pernicious examples. They 
trace all human iniquity to a fountain 
in the human heart — there they un- 
cover the latent source of criminality, 
and point out the first elements of a 
world's corruption. They describe man 
as shapen in iniquity, and conceived 
in sin. It is strange that a doctrine 
preached by the voice of experience in 
all ages, should be combated by the 
enemies of Revelation. Are not the 
actions of every being the develope- 
ment of his nature ? Is not the whole 
of his history an exhibition of those 
innate tendencies which he brought 
with him into the field of existence, 
even up to that moment when those 
tendencies are changed, if changed at 
all, by an external and omnipotent 
power? And what is the history of 
all nations but a record of moral evil, 
with its attendant natural evil ? Does 



103 

not the information of every public 
journal, and the daily observation of 
every individual, attest the guilt of 
mankind, and the infirmities and fail- 
ings of the best of men? Behold, 
then, the developement of the nature 
of man. We shall not continue this 
argument at present, but proceed to 
consider whether the possession of such 
an inbred depravity as the Scriptures 
attribute to us, can affect our moral 
responsibility, so as to neutralize and 
annul it. Now what is the practical 
importance of this question? If it 
could be deduced from the doctrines of 
Revelation that man is not account- 
able, then would it obviously follow 
that neither is he punishable— and men 
flatter themselves that thus the fear of 
a future retribution would be gotten rid 
of. Although, however, they could ac- 
complish the impossible task of de- 
ducing from the doctrines of Revela- 
tion, a consequence contradictory of 



104 

its direct and plainest declarations, it 
does not appear how their situation 
would be essentially bettered by their 
success. For sin, in any form, must 
render the sinner incapable of enjoying 
the favour of the divinity, even al- 
though He should make no inquisition 
for iniquity, nor ever stretch forth his 
arm to execute one direct infliction of 
vengeance. If man be by nature 
possessed of an evil principle, as all 
experience of his disposition in deve- 
lopement has shown ; if it be a fact 
that he has no relish for the contem- 
plation of his Creator, and the con- 
scious enjoyment of his favour — then 
immunity from punishment would not 
be to him security from evil : ere his 
condition can be blest, himself must 
be changed. Exclusion from God has 
come upon him, not alone in a way 
of punishment, but in a way of natural 
and necessary consequence. There 
are other, too, and innumerable evils, 



105 

all the unavoidable result of his depra- 
vity, and which the mere freedom 
from direct punishment could never 
do away. Sin has its punishment, al- 
though God should never interpose to 
effect it. 

2. We affirm not that any individual 
is responsible for having brought an 
evil nature with him into life— that he 
is liable to be tried at the tribunal of 
eternal Justice for the mere fact of 
his birth. We allow, moreover, that 
if the nature of man were such as to 
constrain him to evil by a physical 
necessity, he would not be account- 
able. Were his bodily configuration 
such that all his acts could only be 
pernicious — were his mental constitu- 
tion such that truth in every instance 
must appear to him falsehood, and 
falsehood appear to him truth, every 
good seem evil, and every evil good — he 
would not be accountable. But no one 
ever pretends that his situation is one 



106 

of this kind. His natural depravity 
has not in this manner affected either 
his bodily configuration, or his mental 
constitution. No physical necessity 
constrains him to evil. The motions 
of sin, indeed, are in his very mem- 
bers — yet may those members, with- 
out any physical change being wrought 
upon them, be employed in all the acts 
of virtue and of religion, and restrained 
from all the acts of vice and of im- 
piety. Nor need any but a moral 
change be wrought on his mental con- 
stitution, to enable him to distinguish 
error from truth, evil from good. 
Were his being a mere compound of 
instincts and appetites — had he only a 
sentient nature — he would not be ac- 
countable. The brute ravager of the 
wilderness is not accountable — none 
condemns the lion for the slaughter he 
performs. But there is in man not a 
sentient only, but an intellectual be- 
ing. He knows, or is capable of 



107 

knowing, his duty — it is immediately 
obvious in many instances ; and, were 
the suggestions of his understanding 
attended to, it would not be obscure 
in any. His moral depravity prompts 
him to evil, it is true ; but his con- 
science impels him to what is good ; 
and he is under no physical inability 
to comply with her dictates. His con- 
science, indeed, is in point of fact an 
imperfect guide ; but it is a fact also, 
that he neglects the study of her inti- 
mations, and is unwilling to make, on 
every occasion, use of her light. He 
dislikes to employ a sober and impar- 
tial judgment on every practical ques- 
tion ; and the information which con- 
science supplies must therefore be 
limited. She furnishes him with a 
defective rule, but the fault is at his 
own door. The whole subject of duty 
lies within the comprehension of his 
mental powers, just as any natural 
science may lie within their compre- 



108 

hension. We do not maintain that, 
without a revelation, the knowledge 
of duty would ever have actually been 
complete among men; but we main- 
tain that the obstacle in the way of 
acquiring it consisted in this, that men 
liked not to acquire it ; since, when it 
is urged upon them, they like not to 
retain it, and since no subject is, in 
itself, more obvious to human appre- 
hension. Whether we ought to serve 
God, or serve him not — whether we 
ought to love our fellow-men, or other- 
wise — whether we ought to live so- 
berly, righteously, and godly, or in a 
manner the reverse of all these — it re- 
quires no genius to determine. The 
eternal Godhead would be universally 
manifested by his works, and his 
will would be universally manifested 
by our consciences, were the light 
of nature and of conscience duly em- 
ployed. The inability of the natural 
man to do what is right is not, th en 



109 

a physical, but a moral, inability ; and 
simply consists in his determined un- 
willingness to do it. 

Had he only that sentient nature 
whose depravity prompts to evil, he 
would not be accountable — but he has 
also an intellectual nature, capable of 
distinguishing between good and evil. 
If he practises that which his own 
conscience condemns, and which no 
physical necessity compels him to 
practise, he is accountable. If he 
neglects to perform what his own con- 
science tells him is his duty, while he 
labours under no physical inability to 
perform it, he is accountable. His 
disposition toward evil, and his aver- 
sion from good, are the result, it is 
true, of an inbred depravity — but al- 
though not judicially punishable for 
having been born with the seeds of 
them in his breast, he knows them to 
be evil, he is not forced, blindfold, to 
obey them, and therefore is he ae- 

L 



110 

countable. His natural will is evil, 
and he acts under the impulse of it — 
but his conscience tells him the crimi- 
nality of this, and no fatal necessity 
compels him to it. This is the founda- 
tion of his accountability. Hence the 
authority of the state in every nation 
deals with him as accountable, and all 
human laws are framed on the sup- 
position that he is so. Were he not 
accountable to God, neither would he 
be justly accountable to man. The 
law of the state, considered as a rule 
of conduct, is indeed infinitely inferior 
to the divine laAV ; but the transgres- 
sion of the one, as well as of the other, 
proceeds from natural depravity ; and 
if that could excuse in the one case, it 
must in the other also. The law of 
the state has to do only with external 
conduct, and is therefore more easily 
observed than the divine law, which 
extends its enactments to the intents 
of the heart — but if crime be punish- 



Ill 

able in the execution of the former, on 
the principle that, although it be the 
ebullition of a natural depravity, it is 
yet voluntary, and committed against 
knowledge, or where the means of 
acquiring knowledge are possessed ; 
then, on the same principle, must sin 
be punishable in the execution of the 
latter. But the law of public opinion 
pronounces on disposition, as well as 
on practice, and censures many evil 
affections which are born with men. 
If this be done on the principle that 
men know, or are capable of knowing, 
the evil of their natural dispositions, 
and are under no physical necessity of 
complying with them ; then, on the 
very same principle must the indul- 
gence of natural depravity be liable to 
a just condemnation by the law of 
God. In each of the instances now 
adduced there is evidently involved a 
principle of justice and of retribution. 
The authority of the state, in any 



112 

nation, does not remove a murderer on 
a mere principle of self-defence and 
expediency, as men crush a scorpion 
in their dwellings, or pierce a lion in 
their fields ; but punishes him with 
death as accountable. Certain vicious 
qualities are censured by the law of 
opinion, not with a view to promote 
the welfare of society, but on the 
groundthat to indulge them is culpable. 
Accordingly we not merely feel that 
expediency does not require, but that 
justice would condemn, the legal pu- 
nishment, or public censure, of an 
idiot; his incompetency to distinguish 
between moral good and evil annul- 
ling his responsibility. It has been a 
question with some, whether God was 
bound to make provision for the re- 
moval of our natural depravity. But 
the decision of this question, howso- 
ever it may be decided, cannot affect 
the question of our accountability — for 
enough exists, in human nature as it 



113 

is, to render us accountable. We have 
extracted an evidence of accountability 
from the natural constitution of man ; 
and therefore, were it even granted 
that the Deity was obliged to make 
provision for the removal of our na- 
tural depravity, while he has not done so 
universally, the only consequence to be 
inferred would be — a blasphemous im- 
putation on the character of the Creator. 
We may be allowed, however, to de- 
mand, by what principle is it supposed 
that the Deity was held in obligation 
to provide for the removal of human 
depravity ? Ts it by a principle of jus- 
tice ? But the indulgence of evil is 
voluntary, in a being whom no physical 
necessity compels to indulge it — and 
voluntary evil is criminal in a rational 
being; how then can the deity be 
deemed under an obligation of justice, 
to extend favour to the guilty ? And, if 
not bound to it in justice, he is not bound 
to it at all ; for all obligations must, in 
l2 



114 

one way or other, involve a principle 
of justice. 

Were He that made us the author of 
our depravity, he might be thought 
obliged to remove it ; but that is a 
supposition too impious to be held, and 
too absurd to be refuted. 

3. There are, acts of the mind for 
which we are accountable no less than 
for acts of the body. All are of this 
description, which are voluntary, and 
are not indifferent in their nature. The 
admission of truth, and the rejection 
of error, may to some appear incapable 
of belonging to this description. But, 
although there are instances wherein 
the admission of truth is necessary and 
involuntary ; and instances wherein the 
rejection of error is necessary and 
involuntary too ; yet experience has 
furnished us with other instances in 
which truth has been wilfully resisted, 
and error as wilfully retained. When 
the light of moral knowledge is poured 



115 

on some public and long cherished 
abomination, bigotry stands firm to 
defend, and the multitude are slow to 
abandon it ; and centuries have rolled 
away, ere the victory of right has been 
achieved. The organ of vision may be 
closed against the rising sunbeams ; 
the intellectual eye may be shut 
against the dawning of truth. A 
resolute profligate, rather than de- 
part from his career, may muster all 
the cavils of sophistry against the ar- 
guments of virtue, until he succeed in 
persuading himself that sobriety is 
meanness, and there is something noble 
in vice. May not an obstinate sinner, 
in the same way, wilfully sophisticate 
over the arguments of religion, and 
build up a bulwark of ingenious ab- 
surdity about him, lest the power of 
evidence should enter, and become 
instrumental to his conversion ? May 
he not, for example, cull out from the 
infidel armoury that superficial and well 



116 

refuted objection against the doctrine 
of godliness, that it is unfavourable to 
the interests of virtue ; while his own 
observation contradicts him, and an 
uneasy conscience accuses him of un- 
fairness in his proceeding ? or may he 
not fix upon some other particular, that 
appears to his mind a difficulty involved 
in the Evangelic system ; and, with 
strong misgivings about the temerity 
of his decision, at once reject the 
entire, and refuse all further investiga- 
tion ? or may he not ward away from 
him the kind assaults of truth, with a 
self gratulation that it will be always 
in his power to yield to them ? And then, 
in his dying hour, may he not, although 
without a pretext, put back from him 
in sullen silence the invitation of the 
Gospel, and, with the force of antipathy 
long indulged, repel all the tenderness 
of divine intreaty ? May not the process 
in his mind, in every one of the instances 
we have adduced, be altogether volun- 



117 

tary ? In proof of our position we appeal 
to your observation — we appeal to your 
experience. But further— it may be 
laid down as an undisputed maxim, 
that the rejection of any truth of which 
a sufficient evidence has been proposed, 
must either proceed from incapacity 
to apprehend that evidence, or must 
be voluntary. The argument may be 
complicated and profound, and length- 
ened into a chain too long and ponder- 
ous for the comprehension of ordinary 
faculties ; in which case the refusal of 
trqth may be involuntary. Or the 
argument may be of so brief and simple 
a character, that the humblest intellect 
may, without labour, attain and appre- 
ciate the conclusion ; and we may 
withhold our attention from it, or refuse 
it an impartial hearing — in which case 
the rejection of truth will be voluntary. 
The rejection of the Gospel is of the 
latter kind. Its evidence is at hand, 
and not afar off; no intellectual emi- 



118 

nence is requisite to attain it. We 
speak not of that evidence alone, which 
consists in the testimony of its martyred 
apostles, whose lives and whose deaths 
evinced their sincerity, and who could 
not be deceived in testifying what they 
had heard and seen ; and whose testi- 
mony has descended to us in the form 
of a record indisputably genuine ; — nor 
of that evidence alone, which shines 
along a series of full, but minute, pre- 
dictions, whose antiquity is unques- 
tioned, and whose accomplishment is 
the subject of historical record; — nor 
of the whole of that internal evidence, 
which a Christian Scholar may draw 
from the mine of Revelation, while he 
works therein, enamoured with the 
philosophy of Christianity ; — but we 
speak of that evidence which goes along 
with the Gospel message, however 
simply it may be delivered, and which 
commends itself to every man's con- 
science in the sight of God. The Gospel 



119 

discovers our moral condition ; and our 
consciences attest the truth of the 
discovery — the Gospel proposes, in the 
salvation of Christ, a remedy which 
alone is suitable, at once, to that con- 
dition, and to the character of God, 
These evidences of its origin are suffi- 
cient ; and less than these ought to 
be sufficient, while risk infinitely pre- 
ponderates on the side of rejection. 
Hence the criminality of unbelief; it 
is a voluntary rejection of simple and 
sufficient evidence. Men have sinned ; 
and they like not the conviction of sin 
which the Gospel is adapted to pro- 
duce ; men are depraved ; and they 
like not the renovation of soul of which 
it is the instrument in all who believe — 
Therefore is the Gospel so extensively 
rejected. " This is the condemnation, 
that light is come into the world, and 
men loved darkness rather than light, 
because their deeds were evil." 

4. The rejection of the Gospel is 



120 

represented in the Scriptures as the 
most aggravated sin of which our na- 
ture is capable. The reason of this 
will easily appear, when we consider 
that such rejection is, in fact, a refusal 
of divine mercy rather than to submit 
to divine authority. Every sin is a re- 
sistance of divine authority, and proves 
the existence of the disobedient prin- 
ciple ; but the rejection of mercy pro- 
posed implies a determination of con- 
tinuing in resistance, yea, of venturing 
on the worst rather than undergo sub- 
mission even on favourable terms ; and 
demonstrates the depth of the dis- 
obedient principle. It manifestly im- 
plies, moreover, a deliberate sanction- 
ing of all former transgressions. To 
exhibit a determination of persevering 
in resistance is to set a seal to every 
previous act of resistance. Let us 
imagine a case that will serve the 
purpose of illustration here. The 
banners of insurrection have been 



121 

elevated ; multitudes have flocked 
around them; acts of treason have been 
openly perpetrated, and the guilt of 
rebellion has been widely incurred. 
But the prompt and vigorous exertion 
of authority soon renders the cause 
hopeless ; the insurgents, every where 
borne down by irresistible armies, are 
made to feel the wrath of an offended 
Sovereign. While affairs are in this 
situation, an amnesty is proclaimed, 
and a time appointed within which it 
may be pleaded. Some gladly come 
forward, and, on different days within 
the limited season, accept the benefit, 
and are pardoned. Others wilfully 
neglect the opportunity, choosing to 
retain the arms of rebellion at all 
hazards, rather than yield on merciful 
terms to the authority whose indig- 
nation they have provoked. Is it not 
in the minds of the latter that the prin- 
ciple of rebellion is most deeply and 
most obstinately cherished? Does not 

M 



122 

the refusal of an amnesty at the last 
evince a more determined disloyalty 
than all the acts of previous insurrec- 
tion, and does it not amount to a 
deliberate sanctioning of them all? 
The case we have been considering is 
exactly similar. We have all incurred 
the guilt of rebellion against the 
Sovereign of Heaven — and other Lords, 
even our sins, have had dominion over 
us. The cause of our rebellion ever has 
been hopeless ; for there is no resisting, 
nor escaping, Him with whom we have 
to do. But he has proclaimed an am- 
nesty in the Gospel of his Son. Some, 
at various intervals plead it, aad are 
pardoned. Others, rather than submit 
to God on gracious terms, have chosen 
at all risk to reject it. Every former 
transgression was an act of rebellion 
against God, but this is an act of 
deeply-resolved rebellion, and a virtual 
confirmation of all that have preceded 
it. No other means of obtaining for- 



123 

giveness are known among us ; and 
to put the only means away, when 
resistance cannot hope for a triumphant 
issue, is to exhibit the principle of 
ungodliness in its last act of darkest 
determination, sanctioning every pre- 
vious act — and therefore is to exhibit 
it in its most aggravated guilt. 

To shrink from examination is natu- 
ral to the guilty. Now one among the 
uniform effects of the Gospel is to 
exhibit fully, to him who receives it, 
his own condition. 

However high his former estimation 
of his own character, it must now be 
laid low— his sins are set before him 
in a view wherein he never previously 
regarded them, as all committed against 
the law of the Most High, and as 
having exposed him to the weight of 
his just indignation. His attention is 
directed to his own heart, as the foun- 
tain that polluted and imbittered his 
life ; and he is compelled to glance 



124 

downward into its dark and unfathom- 
able abyss of corruption. But such 
contemplations are revolting to the 
world. In a fatal, yet voluntary, infa- 
tuation, they start back at the mention 
of their guilt — and from an insight into 
the depth of their own inward depravity 
they shrink as from the face of despair. 
Yet Christ came not into the world to 
condemn it, but that the world through 
him might be saved. By those mis- 
taken terrors which we have attempted 
to describe, men only exclude their 
own souls from the enjoyment of a 
sure and solid peace. Pause and exa- 
mine your state ; look boldly upon it 
in the light of truth. Reflect that you 
are accountable, that you have sinned — 
and that a wrath is reserved for the 
impenitent, but a salvation proposed to 
every one who believes. However awful 
the guilt upon which a sober self- 
examination would direct your eyes, 
turn not away, until, disabused of every 



125 

imagination that cannot stand the test, 
and utterly dispossessed of your false 
security, you become willing to em- 
brace a hope that maketh not ashamed. 
Remember that otherwise a more 
awful discovery awaits you — where no 
self-vindication shall mitigate the sense 
of woe; but conscience for ever echo 
the condemnation pronounced, that 
light was come into the world, and men 
loved darkness rather than light 
because their deeds were eviL 



m 2 



SEBMOS V. 



DIVINE PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED 

IN CONNECTION WITH HUMAN 

ACCOUNTABILITY. 

" Thou wilt say then unto me, why doth 
he yet find fault, for who hath resisted 
his will r 

Rom. ix. 19. 

We have endeavoured to prove that 
the doctrine of our accountability is 
not entangled with that of our natural 
depravity; and that no declarations of 
scripture on the latter subject have 
any tendency to neutralize the force of 
its declarations on the former. We 
have also undertaken to prove that the 
Doctrine of our accountability is 
equally unaffected by that of divine 



127 

predestination. The high importance 
of the subject will justify our allotting 
a portion of the present discourse to a 
preliminary notice of predestination 
itself. Many, it is certain, need to be 
informed concerning the precise extent 
of scriptural statements on this subject; 
and, while prejudiced by misinforma- 
tion, are incapable of judging rightly 
on any other, connected with it. The 
doctrine of predestination, as they im- 
agine it is taught in Scripture, may mili- 
tate against the accountability of man 
— but may nevertheless be a wholly 
different thing from the doctrine of pre- 
destination actually taught in Scripture. 
1. The divine predestination of evil, 
inculcated by the Scriptures when 
fairly interpreted, will be found to 
amount only to a fore-knowledge and 
permission of evil. There are certainly 
passages, such as "whom he will he 
hardeneth", which are capable of being 
explained as indicating a direct and 



128 

positive agency on the part of the Deity, 
for the purpose of effecting the final 
ruin of some among his creatures. Few, 
however, will be disposed to charge the 
Scriptures with the pollution of such a 
doctrine as this — yet there hovers in 
the view of many a certain mysterious- 
ness around the passages to which we 
have now alluded, which appears to 
intimate the existence of some un- 
defined and vague apprehension that 
such a doctrine may really be taught 
by them. Now those passages are also 
capable of being explained as merely 
signifying the divine permission of fore- 
known moral evil — that, in short, the 
Almighty, in punishment of human sin, 
does in certain cases give up the mind 
to the power of its voluntary delusion, 
and permits the heart to become har- 
dened by its own cherished depravity. 
But how shall it be decided whether 
we are to adopt the former, or the 
latter, as the true explanation of 



129 

such passages ? which are we to fix 
upon, in the case of the passage lately 
quoted? It is but justice to any author 
to explain his more obscure, in consis- 
tency with his plainer, declarations, 
rather than in contradiction to them. 
Let this principle be recognized in 
interpreting an inspired writer, and the 
point in question is decided. The same 
Apostle, who says of God that " whom 
he will be hardeneth," declares else- 
where that % the grace of God hath 
appeared unto all men." We do not, 
with some, interpret the latter 
passage as intimating that a divine 
influence is communicated to the heart 
of every man; but taking it in a lower 
sense, or reducing it even to the lowest 
which it can rationally be supposed to 
bear, we may consider it as implying 
that the divine mercv has been mani- 
fested to mankind without distinction, 
by the publication of a Gospel whose 
invitations are addressed to every 



130 

intelligent creature under heaven. 
Explaining, therefore, the other pas- 
sage in agreement with this, we only 
infer from it that God, in retributive 
justice, permits some men to become 
hardened in iniquity by a process 
within them, of which they are them- 
selves the voluntary authors. In the 
same manner must every one of the 
sacred writers be interpreted — how- 
ever strong their declarations on the 
subject of predestination may be, they 
all, beyond controversy, set forth the 
tender mercies of the Lord, extended 
over all his works; and from them all 
may that holy truth be gathered, 
"God cannot be tempted with evil, 
neither tempteth he any man " 

2. Does such a predestination in- 
volve any thing contrary to impartial 
reason ? Is it unreasonable to believe 
that God foreknew from everlasting 
the events of his own world, the 
actions of his own creatures ; and that 



131 

not even iniquity can be perpetrated 
without his permission? Let us sup- 
pose that some extraordinary mechani- 
cal invention has just taken place, and 
that its effects are exhibited before us. 
We see an intricate system of com- 
bined machinery? in play, and can 
plainly distinguish the result produced; 
but, unless let into the secret, are un- 
able to trace the part performed by 
each particular portion of the whole. 
We are certain, however, that to the 
inventor all this is known — his sagacity 
has devised, and his art has fabricated, 
the engine ; with the part performed by 
every spring and wheel, during the 
movement of the united whole, he 
must be perfectly acquainted. All are 
agreed that the whole universe of 
matter and of mind is but one mighty 
instrument in the hands of the Al- 
mighty. He is the inventor, and the 
maker, of all things. His work, indeed, 
differs from that of the human artist in 



132 

this, that its several portions consist, 
in great measure, of voluntary agents; 
but this only magnifies the wisdom 
and the power of its great Former, 
and cannot affect the argument. The 
world is the work of God, planned and 
formed by him — created confessedly to 
answer one great design. Hence all 
the inferior movements combined for 
that end — all the actions and thoughts 
of men — must have been known unto 
God from the foundation of the world. 
The divine foreknowledge is, indeed, 
scarcely disputed but by atheists alone; 
mark the consequence which follows 
it — all things must be determinately 
settled in the view of God. All futurity 
is present to the omniscient eye — all 
the issues of events are traced in 
deep and decisive lines before the 
omniscient mind. Uncertainty has a 
being with regard to us — to Him it has 
none ; it is a name that has no place 
in the language of Deity. Attempts 



133 

have, indeed, been made to prove 
that, notwithstanding the divine fore- 
knowledge, events are even to God 
contingent, as they are to us. But 
such attempts do not merit a serious 
refutation — the recoil of common sense 
is felt at the mention of them. That all 
things are determined in the view of 
God, if all things are foreknown by 
him, is a consequence intuitively 
evident to every unprejudiced mind. 
But what truth has yet been discovered 
which a cloud of prejudice cannot 
obscure? 

3. It will not be amiss to inquire 
whether we can collect around our 
doctrine an evidence from facts. Let 
the being and the providence of God 
be only granted, and we can point out 
the divine predestination with refer- 
ence to the temporal and spiritual 
interest of nations, as well as of 
individuals. None but enthusiasts in 
paradox will be disposed to deny that 

N 



134 

a healthful climate and a fertile soil, 
civilization, regular government, and 
general instruction in the grand fun- 
damental duties of religion and mo- 
rality, are real blessings, without which 
the external comforts of our condition 
must be imperfect, and the miseries 
consequent on a lax and licentious 
practice must be widely diffused ; as 
experience has abundantly demonstra- 
ted. Yet mark how unequally those 
blessings are distributed by the hand 
of the Almighty. This is a fact with 
which all are acquainted ; and we shall 
therefore forbear the needless enu- 
meration of a series of particulars, 
contenting ourselves with the mention 
of one striking instance. Why has 
Africa been — in every age over which 
the stream of history flows— the mo- 
ther of slaves? Why has that mighty 
continent, since the primeval period of 
our world, been peopled by tribes of 
iminstructed savages, or half-civilized 



135 

nations ruled by lawless tyranny? 
why has the morning march of 
accumulative prosperity and diffusive 
knowledge never reached her shores ? 
why have the great truths of religion 
been ever there obscured by a cloud of 
superstition, and the grand duties of 
morality consequently little known 
and less regarded? why has the lot of 
the African been uniformly dark and 
degraded, while on the happier natives 
of other lands the light of civilization, 
of regulated liberty, and, above all, 
of religion, has long shone out? all 
this may be traced to the immediate 
operation of secondary causes, and 
attributed to the remote situation, and 
the constitutional hebetude and in- 
dolence of the Negro, which have 
deprived him of that intercourse with 
other nations that promotes the pro- 
gress of civilization and knowledge, 
and have rendered him the natural 
prey of designing tyranny and sacer- 



136 

dotal cunning. But still who will 
venture to deny that this was all fore- 
known and permitted by the Deity, 
and therefore predestinated in the only 
sense wherein, according to the Scrip- 
tures, evil can be predestinated? 
Here is a predestination relating to 
millions, to nations, to successive ge- 
nerations, of the human species; and 
affecting not only the external, but also 
the moral, well-being of mankind. 
Here is the same principle exhibited in 
the dealings of divine providence, that 
Revelation presents to us in the oper- 
ations of grace. — But it will be con- 
tended that the evils here predestinated 
may be limited to the present world, 
and compensated in a future state ; 
and although they certainly demon- 
strate that the divine predestination, 
in the abstract, cannot be inconsistent 
with the divine justice, (since an in- 
stance of it is thus actually exhibited 
before us), yet when applied to evils 



137 

that are everlasting, and without re- 
medy, it must be irreconcileable with 
it. The divine predestination, in the 
abstract, is certainly proved to be 
consistent with the divine justice by 
the instances of it which occur in the 
course of providence; and, with res- 
pect to the particular application of it 
to things eternal, the whole con- 
troversy resolves itself into the ques- 
tion, whether an eternal punishment 
be just or not — for if it be just, then 
the Deity's foreknowing who shall 
justly incur it, cannot render it unjust. 
If the wickedness of the wicked be 
voluntary, and justly punishable by 
the Governor of the universe; and if 
an eternal punishment be not inconsis- 
tent with his justice; the divine fore- 
knowledge of eternal punishment can 
evidently no more render it unjust, 
than the divine foreknowledge of the 
wickedness that merits it can render 
that wickedness less criminal. It 
n2 



138 

would not fall within the plan, or 
compass, of the present discourse, to 
enlarge on the subject of an eternal 
punishment of sin. We may however 
observe that, of all persons, the least 
competent to pronounce on the justice 
or injustice of a sentence are they who 
stand exposed to its infliction ; such 
are we all in the case before us. We 
are sinners — we have merited punish- 
ment — and does it belong to us to 
determine what extent of retribution 
would be just? or does it not rather 
belong to the legislator only? But the 
fact is that not even the terror of an 
unterminating vengeance has been 
sufficient wholly to fright away the 
generality of men from the indulgence 
of their sins — what effect therefore 
would be produced by the apprehen- 
sion of a transient infliction of suffer- 
ing? we are persuaded that the 
denunciation of ages of woe, as the 
punishment of impenitent wickedness, 



139 

if to be succeeded by an everlasting 
immunity, would fall powerless and 
unheeded, as a breath of air, on the 
ears of the vast majority of mankind. 
Can the only divine punishment which 
can be imagined to place the check of 
a salutary fear on the spirits of men, 
be declared inconsistent with the jus- 
tice of God? we have already shown 
that suffering waits on sin in the form 
of natural consequence — and if sin 
be persevered in, its punishment must 
thus be also continued. And if sin be 
voluntary and culpable, and God bb 
not bound to limit its continuance, 
neither can he be bound to limit thb 
continuance of the evil which is na- 
turally allied with it. Hence eternal 
punishment can never be proved incon- 
sistent with divine justice — and, if not 
inconsistent with it, how can the 
Almighty's foreknowledge of those 
who, in a voluntary and a punishable 
course may draw it down upon them- 



140 

selves, reverse its character, and ren- 
der it unjust ? Let it be only granted 
that by this life a man's final destiny 
is decided — that the day of mercy is 
now, and the day of retribution will 
be hereafter — and we point to those 
who are permitted to live and die in 
wickedness before our eyes, and we 
a^k, was not this foreknown by the 
Almighty? Was he not always acquain- 
ted with that sinful career which thus, 
within our very view, fixes the doom of 
the ungodly, and characterizes before- 
hand their eternal state ? and what is 
this foreknowledge and permission of 
their guilt, but that predestination of 
it which alone the sacred volume 
teaches? other men live and expire in 
the arms of virtue and piety; it is true 
that the Scripture teaches a divine and 
direct agency on behalf of these — but 
were all their virtue, and piety, and 
perseverance, attributable to some- 
thing peculiar iu their original con- 



141 

stitution; since of this latter, God, not 
chance, must be considered the primary 
author, and since, in preserving some 
seeds of original righteousness in it, 
he must have foreknown all the blessed 
consequences that were to spring from 
them; he is, on such a plan, the 
original and predestinating author of 
all their goodness, as truly as he is 
according to the Scriptural doctrine, 
which represents him as sending forth 
his Spirit into the hearts of his elect, 
to call them to repentance, and enable 
them to continue in faith. Thus whe- 
ther we embrace the doctrine of Scrip- 
ture, with regard to the cause of 
excellence in some, and of wickedness 
in others, or attempt to account for 
the existence of each on other than 
Scriptural principles, if it be only 
granted that a man's life in the present 
world must decide his final destiny, 
and that the next is a state of retribu- 
tion, then the divine predestination, 



142 

just as inculcated in the Scriptures, 
may be proved by the facts that lie 
around us. 

4. To this doctrine it has been ob- 
jected that it clashes with human 
accountability. This is the objection 
which is anticipated in our text — 
"thou wilt say then unto me, whv 
doth he yet find fault, for who hath 
resisted his will?" The Apostle was 
dealing with persons who admitted 
the divine authority of the Scriptures, 
from which he had just extracted 
proofs of the doctrine of predestina- 
tion — to such objectors, therefore, his 
only reply was, " nay but, O man, 
w ho art thou that repliest against 
God?" where the objectors to our 
doctrine admit the Scriptures, our an- 
swer to their objection may, therefore, 
be similar. We may refer them to the 
revelation of God — to its broadest and 
most unambiguous declarations — to 
its formal argumentation on the sub- 



143 

jeet, as in the chapter before us — to 
the incidental allusions of its very 
historical portions; and we may say 
to them, if God hath revealed that 
whom he did foreknow, them he did 
predestinate, who are ye that reply 
against Him ? To acknowledge the in- 
spiration of the sacred volume, and 
yet explain away and nullify its clearest 
communications, or combat them with 
abstract argument, savours not of 
right reason, or of genuine piety. God 
is wiser than we — and if we receive the 
Scriptures as the word of God, is it 
not consistent to submit to their 
instruction?— Had the Apostle been 
reasoning on this subject with those 
who rejected the Scriptures, he would, 
doubtless, according to his usual habit, 
have reasoned from their own princi- 
ples ; and defended the doctrine of 
predestination on other ground than 
he assumes in the instance we have been 
contemplating. How he would have 



144 

conducted his argument in such a 
case we can only imagine, for no ex- 
ample of the kind is on record. In 
meeting the objection anticipated in 
the text, when it is urged by persons 
not admitting the authority of Scrip- 
ture, we have only a general guide in 
the spirit in which he contends, on all 
occasions, for the once delivered faith. 
It has already been seen that the 
accountability of man arises from a 
voluntary agency being combined in 
him with at least an intellectual na- 
ture — or in other words with the pos- 
session of a conscience, whose intima- 
tions he is formed to feel. He is 
capable of knowing his duty, and under 
no physical necessity of transgressing 
it — hence he is dealt with as accoun- 
table by the law of the state, and by 
the law of opinion; and hence he will 
be dealt with as accountable by the 
divine law. What effect have the 
foreknowledge and permissive will of 



145 

God on the sources of his accounta- 
bility ? have they expelled the internal 
monitor from his breast ? Have they 
altered his mental, or his corporal 
constitution, and laid him under an 
inevitable necessity of sinning? If not, 
how can they render him less account- 
able for sin, than if his sins had never 
been foreknown ? So long as he pos- 
sesses a conscience, and is under no 
physical constraint, so long is he 
accountable; and in these respects the 
divine foreknowledge and permission 
of his sin have not interfered with him. 
His sins, although foreknown and per- 
mitted, are yet voluntary, and com- 
mitted under light, whether natural 
or revealed ; and therefore are they 
punishable. The foreknowledge and 
permission of the Deity no more 
interfere with the voluntary character 
of his actions, or with the light of his 
conscience, than if no Deity existed. 
Although it could be ascertained that 



146 

the Governor of the universe had 
ceased to be, yet would not the actions 
of man be more voluntary than they 
now are, nor the light of his conscience 
be increased, nor would he be treated 
by his fellow-man as accountable to 
the law of the state, or to the law of 
opinion, in a stronger sense than at 
present; whence it is evident that the 
permissive will and foreknowledge of 
the Deity have no effect upon him in 
his accountable character. 

5. The divine predestination of 
moral good, we have already admitted, 
is not represented in Scripture as 
merely amounting to a foreknowledge 
and permission of it. All that is 
morally good in man, from the first 
feeling of awakening penitence to the 
final triumph of faith, is referred to his 
direct operation. His Spirit is de- 
scribed as descending, in the appointed 
day of his power, on the hearts of his 
elect, and turning them from the love 



147 

and slavery of sin, to the Saviour of 
sinners, and the service of God. He 
who first opens the heart, to receive 
the Gospel of his salvation, is de- 
scribed as maintaining an influence 
over it unto the end — captivating its 
affections to the obedience of faith, and 
binding them permanently around the 
truth as it is in Jesus. Here is, indeed, 
a special mercy manifested to some. 
Does this remove the accountability of 
others ? It cannot — and, obviously, for 
the same reason we assigned in the 
former case — it does not interfere 
with the voluntary character of their 
actions, nor deprive them of con- 
science; it leaves the sources of their 
accountability untouched. Were no 
special grace extended to any, none 
would be more accountable than they 
at present are; for their actions would 
not be more voluntary, nor the light 
of their consciences greater than now. 
God might have left all to them- 



148 

selves, and have punished all; and in 
doing so he would have been justified. 
Where all are justly liable to punish- 
ment, can the exercise of distinguishing 
mercy toward a few remove the ac- 
countability of others ? Let us suppose 
the case of a number of criminals, all 
sentenced to the last punishment that 
human tribunals can award, for the 
convicted violation of their country's 
laws. In behalf of some of them an 
effectual mediation takes place at the 
court of the Sovereign; and he is 
pleased to exercise, in their favour, his 
prerogative of mercy. Does this affect 
the criminality of the rest? At the 
moment that the pardon of the former 
has been carried into effect— does the 
whole burthen of guilt, previously 
attached to the latter, loosen and fall 
off, and has it become unjust to execute 
upon them the sentence of the law? 
The answer is obvious in this case, 
and should be equally so in the case 



149 

illustrated by it. All have sinned — all 
are justly liable to the penalty of 
God's broken law — and it is impossible 
that peculiar mercy extended to some 
can interfere with the accountability 
of others. Deprive man of his con- 
science, or force him to the commis- 
sion of evil, and you destroy his 
accountability — but nothing can de- 
stroy it that leaves him unaffected in 
these respects. Just, then, as the 
foreknowledge and permission of the 
Deity leave his accountability un- 
touched, because they do not interfere 
with the light of his conscience, or 
with the voluntary character of his 
actions — for the same reason the 
extension of peculiar mercy to some 
must leave it untouched. 

Why is any difficulty connected with 
this subject in our minds? Because it 
is not sufficiently considered that the 
sin of the world is voluntary. Unbelief 
is voluntary. The nature of revealed 
o2 



150 

truth, and the evidences of it, may be 
considered and weighed by the human 
mind, as well as any other propositions 
that are submitted to it — we have all 
the natural faculties necessary for the 
purpose. But men wilfully put away 
the truth, and love darkness rather 
than light, because their deeds are evil. 
They labour under no physical inability 
to believe — the inability is altogether 
a moral one, consisting in volun- 
tary opposition to the truth. All 
things are ready; the invitation is gone 
forth to every creature under heaven ; 
but they will not come to the banquet 
of the Gospel. God willeth not the 
death of a sinner — he throws no delu- 
sive influence over his understanding; 
he infuses no fatal insensibility into his 
heart; he has provided an atonement 
sufficient for the expiation of all hu- 
man guilt ; around as he has multiplied 
in a thousand forms, the means of 
divine instruction ; and he has declared 



151 

that he will deal with all men, not 
according to the light which they have 
not, but according to the light which 
they have. On the part of God there 
exists no obstacle to the salvation of 
men — the obstacle is on their own part 
altogether. Men like not to employ 
the light which is given them; they 
harden themselves, they refuse to 
repent, and will not believe. Hence 
did God resign the whole human spe- 
cies to the power of their voluntary 
sins, and suffer them to perish in the 
impenitence which they cherish, he 
would be justified ; — and if he exercises 
an omnipotent agency in behalf of any, 
to overcome their hatred of truth, and 
bring them to repentance, this is an 
act of grace which he is not obliged to 
perform for any, and therefore surely 
not for all — an act which, consequently, 
cannot relieve any from their respon- 
sibility. By that grace extended to 
some, the consciences of others are 



152 

not extinguished, their opportunities 
are not withdrawn, their faculties are 
not deteriorated, their physical con- 
stitution is not altered; and therefore 
their accountability is not interfered 
with. 

If, then, there be indeed on the part 
of the Deity a predestination of all 
things, not interfering with the ac- 
countability of man, what is to be 
done? Let men only consent to act 
with regard to their spiritual, as they 
act with regard to their temporal, 
interests, and the question is readily 
answered. The agriculturist will em- 
ploy means for the production of that 
harvest, which he knows must ulti- 
mately depend on causes beyond his 
control. To insure a return for his 
labours, the field must be blessed with 
sunshine and with rain, in due and 
kindly proportion — which he can only 
implore, but the God of nature must 
bestow. Yet ignorant, as he is, whe- 



153 

ther his toil shall prosper, but hopeful 
that the ordinary course of nature will 
operate in his favour, he employs the 
means— he prepares the soil, casts in 
the seed, and watches over the work 
which he has performed. Let us act 
thus in religion. Although conscious 
that the effectual blessing, here too, 
must descend from a superior power, 
let us employ the means which lie 
within our reach. We have not only 
the encouragement afforded by the or- 
dinary course of divine grace, but an 
express and immediate promise that 
we shall not seek in vain. If the bles- 
sing has already descended upon us, 
and we have begun to experience the 
fruits of the Spirit in the joy and 
holiness of believing, we should attri- 
bute this to the sovereign and unme- 
rited mercy of God ; and, regarding it 
as a manifestation of his gracious will 
toward us, we may assure our hearts 
that he will never permit us to be 
separated from his everlasting love. 



SEHMOM VI. 



THE EXPANSIVE TENDENCY OF 
PERSONAL RELIGION. 

2 Pet. iii. 18. 
"Grow in Grace" 



Among the professors of religion 
there exists a class, happily less nume- 
rous at the present than perhaps at 
any former period, who believe the 
whole of personal religion, to consist 
in the simple reception of that truth, 
" Christ loved the Church and gave 
himself for it." When once the aton- 
ing sacrifice and electing love of God 
are seen with eyes of faith, no more 
(as they believe) remains to be accom- 
plished on the part of the enlightening 



155 

Spirit, than to preserve to the end, 
that measure of light which he has 
now imparted — and therefore nothing 
remains for the earnest attention and 
persevering efforts of the believer to 
strain after, but he may rest in indolent 
security on the foundation of peace 
which he has been enabled to discover. 
To talk of watchful and prayerful 
endeavours to attain more elevated 
conceptions of revealed truth, accom- 
panied by more close conformity to the 
standard of revealed morals, appears 
to them a deviation from the simplicity, 
a foregoing of the liberty, of the Gos- 
pel; an adoption, in fact, of the very 
principle of the Pharisee; a return to 
the bondage and beggarly elements of 
the law. It is indeed a Scriptural 
and a glorious truth that when faith, 
the gift of God, is imparted to a sinner, 
his justification in the righteousness 
of faith is at once and for ever com- 
pleted* Earth can add nothing to it, 



156 

and hell can take nothing away. The 
sentence of acquittal obtained for him 
by the interposition of his great 
Mediator, is preserved in the archives 
of Heaven, where no enemy can find 
entrance to efface it, and the unchange- 
ableness of Deity forbids any alter- 
ation in its tenor. And it is a truth 
no less Scriptural and glorious that the 
merciful work of the Spirit in the 
sinner's soul, although not wholly ac- 
complished when the spark of faith 
has been kindled, is commenced by a 
process that will with infallible cer- 
tainty terminate in completion — a 
result secured by the nature of its 
immutable Author, by the analogy of 
every other divine procedure, and 
by the pledged fidelity of God. But 
in the operation of the Spirit of grace, 
faith is not the end which he pursues, 
but the means which he employs. Faith 
is the instrument with which, working 
uninterrupted within the soul, he 



157 

effects its gradual and at length entire 
conformity to the image of God. It is 
the light which he sets up, and feeds, 
within it, until shining brighter and 
brighter, it disperses with silent but 
potent influence, the darkness of 
nature, and finally fills the soul with 
all the glory of God. That there is a 
growth in grace, the text before us 
evidently implies. Premising that cer- 
tain principles, affections, and habits 
belong to every disciple of Christ, 
we shall endeavour, with the divine 
blessing, to demonstrate, that growth 
in grace — or gradual advancement in 
piety and its various characteristics — 
will be the necessary consequence. 

1. According to the uniform experi- 
ence of the world, such is the constitu- 
tion of the human mind, that every 
opinion which it embraces will be 
strengthened by time, unless under- 
mined by the influence of passion, or dis- 
pelled by the increase of knowledge, or 
p 



158 

overcome by the artifices of sophistry. 
While it holds its seat, and prevails 
in the mind, its tendency is to strike a 
deeper root within it, and, if of a 
practical nature, to spread over it a 
widening influence. When a man 
becomes a convert to any particular 
class of principles, in order to secure 
the growth of their influence, a direct 
external encouragement is not usu- 
ally necessary — time accomplishes the 
work. Moreover the very possession 
of those principles will usually lead to 
a line of conduct calculated to react 
upon them, and promote their stability 
and power. Let a man, for instance, 
become the sincere adherent of a 
political party, and it is not when his 
principles are new and unconfirmed by 
continuance, that to eradicate them is 
most difficult of accomplishment, but 
when years have passed over them 
and left them still unshaken in his 
breast. The ardour of a novice in 



159 

the cause may be more eagerly and 
glaringly exhibited, but the strength 
of principle will be found in the 
veteran partizan. He has gone from 
volume to volume, from meeting to 
meeting, from action to action, in the 
study and promotion of his cause; and 
all this has had upon his mind a 
powerful reaction, conservative and 
corroborative of his sentiments. From 
the perusal of every volume, from 
the speeches of every meeting, from 
the performance of every action, he 
comes away more thoroughly devoted 
than before to his political system. 
Nor is it only by the influence of time, 
but even by the force of external 
opposition, that the growth of prin- 
ciple is promoted. To recur to our 
illustration, legislate against any par- 
ticular creed, and you put its genuine 
adherents almost beyond the possi- 
bility of renouncing it; make them 
the prisoners and the martyrs of it, 



160 

and you most probably make it im- 
mortal among them. Instances of this 
nature might be multiplied, but it 
would be superfluous to do it ; every 
one will acknowledge that time, and 
even opposition, tends to strengthen 
principle. To account for this truth is 
not now our business— that it is a truth 
experience testifies, and that is enough 
for our present purpose. That the 
growth of principle may be counter- 
acted by passion, by argument, or by 
sophistry, has been already intimated 
— and cases where it is so, are apparent 
exceptions to the truth laid down ; 
but all that we affirm is a tendency to 
growth in every principle embraced by 
the mind, and that, when not counter- 
acted as described, it will grow in the 
course of time, and in the face of 
opposition. Now personal religion in- 
volves unquestionably the holding of 
certain opinions, entertained too on 
grounds of conviction. Whether the 



161 

Christian was first impressed by the 
evidences of Revelation usually so 
called, or by its evidences lying within 
him, in the experience and necessities 
of his own soul, or by both of these 
together — whether with the energies 
of an accomplished mind, he has 
grasped the whole argument of the 
Cross, while the Spirit of illumination 
applied its import to his heart; or 
whether in untaught simplicity he has 
been enabled to submit himself to a 
deep consciousness of guilt, and help- 
lessness, and want of salvation such 
as the Gospel proposes to mankind — 
he is one who can give a reason for 
the hope that is in him, one whose 
opinions do not rest on the prejudice of 
education, or the caprice of a season, 
but were formed with consideration, 
and are founded on conviction. In- 
crease of knowledge instead of weak- 
ening must therefore tend to confirm 
them. Nor is it less than a moral im~ 
p2 



162 

possibility that the most perplexing 
sophistry which his learning and ability 
may be insufficient to disentangle shall 
be finally successful in robbing him of 
his sentiments, and of the hope to 
which they have given birth in his 
breast ; for the sense of interest con- 
spires with the conviction of expe- 
rience to guard him from such a 
catastrophe. Who will forego, for all 
that sophistry can advance, the enjoy- 
ment of a hope which has a witness 
in his own experience, and which the 
most powerful sense of interest urges 
him to retain? That the latter is 
felt by every real Christian in connec- 
tion with his hope of everlasting life 
will not be denied. Nor less likely 
does it appear than any opposing pas- 
sion shall unseat his opinions, guarded 
as they thus are. What passion so 
powerful as the desire of life — eternal 
life — when once it has arisen within, 
and possessed the soul? There are 



163 

also other passions of a sacred kind, 
that spring from the Christian belief, 
and oppose a mightier counteraction 
to the influence of those passions 
whose tendency may be to undermine 
religious opinions. There is, in fact, 
in the very nature of these opinions 
when seriously and truly entertained, 
a sort of security for their continuance. 
There is something immortal in the 
elements of piety — they are not of 
earth, and tend uncontrollably to the 
Heaven from which they came. They 
are the work of eternal perfection, 
and, like every atom of his universe 
around us, are incapable of annihila- 
tion by any created power. On this 
point it is unnecessary to insist any 
longer, for it is admitted by those 
whose error we attempt to refute that 
the faith of a genuine Christian is 
guarded by still higher security, and 
that encompassed by the intercession 
of the Redeemer and the predestina- 



164 

tion of God, it cannot fail. It may be 
shewn, moreover, that the faith of a 
Christian — even as the most Antino- 
mian professor will describe it — is of 
a practical tendency; that his opinions 
even thus mutilated, are such as, if 
really entertained, cannot fail to ame- 
liorate the moral character. The 
Antinomian admits the certainty of a 
future judgment — and we appeal to 
the consciousness of every rational 
man, whether there be not something 
in a thorough conviction of its cer- 
tainty, calculated to sober and restrain 
the heart? We ask whether it be the 
same thing, so far as the moral 
character is concerned, whether such 
a conviction be deeply seated in the 
mind, or be utterly absent from it? 
The Antinomian admits the doctrine 
of Christ's atonement. Is not there 
something in that atonement that 
proclaims intelligibly and loudly God's 
hatred of sin and mercy to the sinner ? 



165 

Does not it therefore tend to awaken 
in the mind that realizes it, a dread of 
sin and a grateful sense of unmerited 
and infinite kindness on the part of 
Him who has so peculiarly put it away? 
And will not this gratitude be produc- 
tive of the only return that man can 
present unto God — obedience to his 
will? The Antinomian admits that 
the Spirit of grace is a Holy Spirit, 
and dwells with continuous influence 
in the Children of God — is there no- 
thing of a sanctifying tendency in the 
very belief of this, where belief of it 
is unfeigned? He admits too that the 
world whereto he looks forward is a 
world wherein righteousness alone 
shall dwell— that all its inhabitants, 
whether Saints redeemed or Angels 
elect, shall be holy in the most compre- 
hensive sense of that word; in this 
belief too, when genuine, is there no 
sanctifying tendency? It is indeed 
difficult if not impossible to conceive 



166 

how such truths as those now men- 
tioned can be realized in the con- 
victions of a human mind, and pro- 
duce no effect on its moral condition. 
Violence must first be done to its 
nature, and the whole current of affec- 
tion must be forced from its natural 
channels. Every truth fitted to excite 
emotion, will excite its corresponding 
emotion, when believed; and if the 
emotion be fitted to affect the conduct, 
the conduct will be affected accordingly, 
as in the instance under our conside- 
ration. Hence many persons have been 
Antinomians in theory who have been 
far otherwise in practice. Notwith- 
standing some ingredients of an op- 
posite tendency, their religious system 
contains so much that is necessarily 
sanctifying, as to render it impossible 
to hold it in sincerity, imperfect as it 
is, without an amelioration of the cha- 
racter; and where that amelioration 
has not at all taken place, the very 



167 

constitution of the human mind forbids 
the supposition that profession is ac- 
companied by faith unfeigned. The 
opinions of a Christian, then, even as 
imperfectly represented by the persons 
whose peculiar doctrine we now dis- 
pute, are of a practical tendency. 
When truly entertained, they are no 
less than those of the politician, prin- 
ciples of conduct. And if, as we have 
seen, principles continuing in the mind 
become stronger by the influence of 
time and even of external opposition, 
what reason is there to suppose that 
in the instance of religious principles 
is found an exception from this law of 
our nature ? Must not the principles of 
the Christian become stronger by time, 
and in the midst of outward opposi- 
tion, no less than the principles of the 
political partizan ? And as they grow 
in strength and stability, must not their 
practical influence increase in pro- 
portion ? Their permanence is secured 



168 

by their very nature, and by the 
covenant of eternal mercy; and, if 
permanent, it is a law of our mental 
constitution that they shall not stag- 
nate in their incipient feebleness, but 
shall gather force and pour onward, 
until they pervade and purify every 
region of the soul. 

2. The observations we have now 
made concerning the growth of prin- 
ciple apply equally to the growth of 
affection. The latter, like the former, 
may be stifled by a variety of causes; 
but, if abiding, it will be strengthened 
by the influence of time, and even out- 
ward opposition will serve to confirm 
it. To illustrate this by a familiar 
instance — when the passion of avarice 
takes possession of the soul, it may 
possibly be dislodged by the lessons 
of wisdom, or by the subsequent 
developement of some conflicting and 
more powerful passion — but if it con- 
tinues within, it will be progressive in 



169 

its influence. Time will add strength 
to it, and the external restraint that is 
intended to extinguish it will only sup- 
ply fuel for the flame. And the pas- 
sion will impel him who is the subject 
of it, to those actions, which tend to 
confirm and increase it. The miser 
will gaze in secret on his golden idol, 
and the ruling propensity of his soul 
will grow while he gazes — he will 
calculate in his solitary musings the 
coming augmentation of his stores, 
and the very indulgence of this favorite 
employment will confirm the affection 
that prompted him to it — he will sur- 
vey the ample estates that are the 
well-earned reward of more than mo- 
nastic mortification, and as the glow of 
exultation rises within him at the sight, 
the passion that absorbs his mind 
becomes more absorbing still. Now 
personal religion involves the existence 
of certain affections. It is an impossi- 
bility, arising out of the very nature 
Q 



170 

of the human mind, that a future 
judgment should be thoroughly be- 
lieved, without habitual awe at the 
thought, of criminality, resulting from 
the belief of it* It is equally contrary 
to man's mental nature, that the reality 
of Christ's redemption should be mat- 
ter of serious conviction, without pro- 
ducing gratitude to its divine Author. 
It is no less impossible to believe the 
promises of the New Testament with- 
out hoping for their accomplishment—- 
and to believe that holiness is the 
character of Heaven, and the essence 
of happiness, without desiring holiness 
— and to believe that sin shut the 
gates of Paradise, opened those of 
hell, and, when laid on our Mediator, 
brought him to the cross and to the 
sepulchre, without abhorring sin. If 
then affections, where they are 
abiding, grow and are confirmed (as 
we have seen) — and if religion has its 
affections (whose continuance through 



m 

life is secured) what reason have we 
to conclude that in the instance of re- 
ligious affections this law of our men- 
tal constitution is suspended, and that 
they alone do not grow with the 
growth of time, and strengthen with 
the strength of opposition? Is it not 
reasonable on the contrary to conclude 
that the various affections to which 
faith gives birth in the soul, because 
they shall continue there throughout 
all her pilgrimage, must wax more and 
more powerful, and gain progressively 
a greater and more settled influence 
over the mind and character? 

3, Observations of a similar kind 
will also apply in the case of habits — 
which time is found to confirm, and 
external opposition to strengthen, 
where they continue appended to the 
character. The force of principle may 
gradually undo a long cherished habit, 
and the force of passion may suddenly 
break it up — but if no cause exist to 



172 

cut short its continuance, it will grow 
and strengthen upon us. All experi- 
ence declares that such is the nature 
of man. Every occasion whereon the 
drunkard indulges in his debasing 
practice, will leave the habits of intem- 
perance more powerful upon him ; and 
every victory achieved by the drunkard 
reformed, over the vice that prostrated 
him before, will make the habits of 
temperance sit easier upon him. The 
man of God has his habits too. He 
has his habits of public and private 
devotion, of watchfulness and of ac- 
tivity in the service of his Saviour — 
for the authority of that Saviour has 
enjoined upon him the duties of pray- 
ing always, of watching against the 
influence of temptation, of working 
the works of holiness to the glory of 
God. And shall not these habits be 
confirmed by time, and strengthened 
by continuance? It is true they are 
contrary to nature, and if left to all her 



173 

spontaneous workings nature would 
finally expel them — but their conti- 
nuance is secured by the continuance 
of the principles and affections from 
which they result. — and continuing, 
they must increase in vigour and influ- 
ence. If even outward restraint and 
violent opposition will not cure the 
intemperate of his habits, or graft 
them on the character of a virtuous 
man instead of the habits formed by 
temperance, but only produce the 
contrary of the effect intended; neither 
will the opposition of mistaken zeal 
on the part of the unbelieving, era- 
dicate from the Christian's life the 
habits of piety and purity, but only 
become the means of augmenting their 
force. 

4. Here it is to be remarked how a 
voluntary agency on the part of the 
believer becomes the means of con- 
firming the principles, affections, and 
habits, that have given rise to it. As 



q2 



174 

the political partizan will be led by his 
principles to that line of conduct which 
tends to confirm them — as the victim 
of avarice will be prompted by the 
affection which sways him to those acts 
which tend to cherish and invigorate 
that affection — as the habitually tem- 
perate, or intemperate, will be carried 
along by the habits which rule him to 
the practice by which those habits 
acquire additional influence over him — 
so will the Christian be led by holier 
principles, prompted by purer affec- 
tions, and carried along by better 
habits, in that course of conduct whose 
tendency is to promote their growth 
and stability. He will frequent the 
house of God; he will study the 
volume of inspiration, and compo- 
sitions which draw from that fountain 
and lead the mind to it; he will employ 
his resources and opportunities in pro- 
moting the cause of sacred truth — and 
all this will subserve the end of 



175 

corroborating his principles. He will 
survey through the medium of reve- 
lation the goodly heritage which has 
devolved upon him by his Redeemer's 
death — he will feed on the sweetness 
of divine promise, and enter not 
seldom into close and blissful com- 
munion with his God — and all this will 
subserve the end of invigorating the 
heavenly affections by which he is 
animated. He will be impelled by a 
holy habit to the discharge of the duties 
of piety and benevolence — and the 
performance of these duties, as often 
as it is repeated, will add strength to 
the habits of holiness. 

We contemplate the Christian, then, 
as distinguished by peculiar principles, 
affections, and habits, whose conti- 
nuance to the end of his career is effec- 
tually secured. But it arises out of 
man's internal constitution that his 
principles, affections, and habits, pro- 
vided they continue, grow stronger, 



176 

and become confirmed in the course of 
time, and in the way of natural con- 
sequence. Hence it is reasonable to 
look for such a result in the case of 
personal Christianity. The principles 
affections and habits, peculiar to the 
Christian, must, like all others, de- 
velope a gradual growth. They will 
lead to the line of conduct which 
confirms them. Their own effects 
will react upon them, and augment 
their influence. They will accumulate 
strength by a process that offers no 
violence to the mental constitution, 
but on the contrary arises out of it. 
They bring with them into the be- 
lievers breast the elements of their 
future expansion, the principle of 
vitality that is destined to unfold all 
their loveliness in a holier sphere of 
being. As the incipient sprouting of 
the acorn springs from the same 
mighty principle of vegetation that 
subsequently strikes deep the roots, 



177 

and evolves on high the boughs, of the 
forest oak, so in the infancy of the 
Christian life that heavenly principle 
is at work, whose operation in its final 
stage will produce the holiness of a 
perfect condition. 

The foregoing reasoning militates 
not against that doctrine of Revelation 
by which the birth, increase, and con- 
tinuance of personal religion are as- 
cribed to the influence of the Divine 
Spirit. It may be said that in every 
plant exists a tendency to expand, 
under circumstances favorable to the 
process of vegetation, without any im- 
plied denial of the doctrine that vege- 
tation in the loftiest tree and in the 
humblest shrub is alike to be attri- 
buted to the operation of that Power, 
who formed the primordial seeds of 
all verdure, gave to every plant its 
expansive tendency, and causes his 
sun to shine, and his showers to des- 
cend, without which its maturity can- 



178 

not be unfolded. And may not an 
expansive tendency be attributed to 
the elements of personal piety, without 
any implied denial of the doctrine that 
the Spirit of the living God in every 
instance originates the being of those 
elements, gave them their tendency to 
growth, and maintains their conti- 
nuance within, while the light and 
dews of cooperating providence des- 
cend upon them, and promote their 
maturity? Nay, while we ascribe to 
these elements, as it were an inherent 
tendency to growth, arising out of the 
constitution of the human mind, we 
do not deny that the divine influ- 
ence extends its effect beyond the 
mere maintenance of their being 
within; and strengthens and dilates 
them with a direct and immediate 
operation. But what effect will such 
an operation have on the expansive 
tendency which, we hope, has been 
proved to belong to them, except to 



179 

increase it? If a principle existing 
within, be increased by an external 
influence, the expansive tendency 
which may belong to it, is augmented 
too. And if the elements of personal 
religion possess such a tendency, the 
divine influence which confirms and 
invigorates them, must necessarily 
augment that tendency. 

Antinomianisin, then, is irrational 
as it is unscriptural. It is founded on 
ignorance of human nature no less 
than on ignorance of the Bible. They 
who reject the doctrine of a growth in 
grace, maintain opinions at variance 
with the daily experience of mankind. 
They affirm it to be possible, that a 
system of principles, a train of affec- 
tions and habits, may exist perma- 
nently in the character of man, 
without a progressive augmentation 
of strength — may repose in lethargic 
inaction, in continual sameness of state, 
such as is known elsewhere neither in 



180 

the universe of matter nor in the 
universe of mind* Wheresoever we 
turn our eyes, or our thoughts, all 
things are in motion; the progress of 
life or of decay, the progress of im- 
provement, or of deterioration, meets 
us on every side. Does the history of 
personal religion form a solitary excep- 
tion amid this general uniformity? 
If we cannot credit the stagnation in 
the human mind of principles which 
are earthly in their origin, how shall 
we credit the stagnation of principles 
which are Heavenly? Are the latter 
more feeble in their kind, and there- 
fore incapable of self-expansion ? But 
should we even suppose that all which 
constitutes inward piety remains in 
the soul without increase from the 
hour when it is first implanted, still 
there must be a growth of practical 
holiness. For it will be conceded bv 
our opponents that the elements of 
piety, howsoever they may be defined, 



181 

meet with conflicting elements in every 
mind into which they are infused 
and are combated too by the influence 
of habits previously formed. Is it at 
once, then, that the elements of dark- 
ness are subjected to the dominion of 
faith ; or by a gradual operation ? Is 
it at once we become acquainted with 
all in our characters that exalts itself 
against the knowledge of Christ; oris 
it from time to time that we make 
discoveries of it? And how can the 
workings of depraved nature be cap- 
tivated to the obedience of faith, 
except as they are detected, and 
known to us? 

The exhortation of the Apostle, 
" grow in grace," if the Antinomian 
system were true, would lay upon us 
a command in every sense imprac- 
ticable. But if the elements of per- 
sonal religion, no less than other prin- 
ciples, grow in the mind, and prompt 
to a line of conduct that reacts upon, 

R 



182 



strengthens, and confirms them, then 
we see the exhortation invested with a 
perfect propriety. Believers may with 
propriety be exhorted to a believing 
use of every means of spiritual im- 
provement; and if such improvement 
must follow, even in the way of natural 
consequence, to exhort them to a 
believing use of means is equivalent 
to the exhortation "grow in grace." 





































. 



sEBsos vii; 



THE ADAPTATION OF CHRISTIANITY 

TO THE VARIETIES OF NATURAL 

CHARACTER. 



Isaiah xi. 6 — 9. 

" The wolf also shall dwell with the 
lamb and the leopard shall lie down 
with the kid; and the calf and the young 
lion and the fatling together; and a 
little child shall lead them. And the 
cow and the bear shall feed; their young 
ones shall lie doivn together: and the 
lion shall eat straw like the ooc. And 
the sucking child shall play on the hole 
of the asp 9 and the iveaned child shall 
put his hand on the cockatrice' den. 
They shall not hurt nor destroy in all 
my holy mountain" 

That the Christian religion is pe- 
culiarly and exclusively adapted to 



184 

the actual state of human nature has 
been often and justly insisted on. It 
is a remedy for our great moral 
disease, bearing upon it the authen- 
ticating seal of its divine author. 
Wondrously fitted at once to pacify 
the guilty conscience, and overcome 
depravity, it carries with it an inherent 
evidence of its heavenly original. It 
performs a work too high for any 
other to perform — it reconciles the 
sinner with God ; and diffuses, where- 
ever its influences are admitted, a 
transforming power over the moral 
character of mankind, which acts with 
equal efficacy on every state and grade 
of society. Its superiority over every 
other system claiming the authority 
of revealed religion, is either directly 
acknowledged, or virtually conceded, 
by infidels. Every other they can 
pass with contemptuous neglect, while 
they do involuntary homage before 
the shrine of Christianity, with a li- 



185 

bation of their hostile zeal, poured out 
in unintermitted and bitterest effusion. 
Why single out our religion as the 
object of peculiar malevolence, and 
pursue its ruin with their highest 
efforts, if there be nothing peculiar 
about it ? Why behold with an indul- 
gent smile the obscene and sanguinary 
abominations of heathenism in its most 
revolting form, and then turn with 
irreconcileable hate on the purity and 
gentleness of Christianity? What is 
this but a virtual acknowledgement 
that she possesses an importance pe- 
culiar to herself? To exhibit hate as 
the spirit of infidelity exhibits it, is to 
pay to its object a tribute of reluctant 
respect. Were Christianity indeed 
worthy to be numbered among des- 
picable superstitions, it would at least 
be treated like them. But so univer- 
sally is her superior dignity allowed, 
that none but philosophy is deemed 
worthy of entering the lists against 
r2 



186 

her. — That philosophy in her ancient 
form was unequal to the task of re- 
generating a world, has been proved by 
facts too well known ta render more 
than an allusion to them necessary 
here. In her modern form, arrayed 
in the partial glory she has borrowed 
from Revelation, and employing for 
the destruction of the sanctuary a fire 
stolen from its altar, what has she 
done for mankind ? What can she do ? 
That portion of religious truth which 
although not actually discovered, is yet 
demonstrable, by reason, and to which 
the too ambiguous appellation of 
"natural religion" has been applied, 
might suffice for a world where no 
guilt has already been incurred. It 
might be there enough to know that 
God is glorious in all his attributes, 
and every created intelligence respon- 
sible to his authority. But try such 
truths at the pillow of a dying sinner, 
and what will they avail? Here 



187 

Christianity alone can minister with 
effect — she must bind up the sinners 
broken heart, or it must bleed on 
for ever. 

In considering the adaptation of 
Christianity to the varieties of natural 
character, we shall take it for granted 
that human natureis fallen; only re- 
marking at present that in a world 
where the conscience of guilt is less 
or more universal, guilt itself must be 
universal too. We shall, then, con- 
sider Christianity as not more adapted 
to the fallen state of man in general, 
than it is to particular modifications of 
human guilt. For although we believe, 
in equal consonance with reason and 
with revelation, that the same elements 
of corruption are found in every human 
breast, it is yet an obvious fact that 
some of these are developed more 
prominently than others, in different 
individuals, according to the different 
influence of accidental causes; and 



188 

the mire of our moral material is 
variously moulded into vessels of dis- 
honour, by education, by the events of 
life, and by animal temperament. 

The human character, like the hu- 
man countenance, appears to be infi- 
nitely diversified, so that in the former 
as well as in the latter, an exact 
coincidence cannot perhaps be found 
between any two individuals. There 
are, however, a few grand distinctions, 
which will be acknowledged the most 
important, as they are the most ob- 
servable, even though it should be 
doubted whether all shades of dif- 
ference are comprehended under them. 
To these classes of character we shall 
confine our remarks. It is scarcely 
necessary to premise that the more 
prominent developement, and not the 
exclusive possession, of a particular 
feature of character, is that which 
determines each class. The most 
distinct and even opposite classes shall 



189 

be selected; for if Christianity be 
found adapted to opposite modifica- 
tions of character, no difficulty will 
be felt in admitting its adaptation to 
the intervening shades. 

1. The most common modification 
of human character is perhaps the 
sensual. Multitudes having grown to 
maturity without education, spending 
life in procuring the means of living, 
and devoid of the influences of religion, 
exhibit every day this pitiable spectacle 
of degradation. In them the intel- 
lectual is merged in the animal exis- 
tence; and could no fairer examples of 
humanity be found, the claim of our 
species to the dignity of rationals 
might almost be disputed. It is 
mournful to remember how many 
there are to whom this description 
must apply, in countries nominally 
civilized, as well as in those confes- 
sedly savage. It were a thing to 
deplore only, and not to condemn, 



190 

were this imprisonment of the mind 
altogether involuntary. But it is far 
otherwise. They who would ameli- 
orate the human condition, find man 
every where capable of improvement, 
but too often averse from the process. 
It is not the ignorant who will most 
readily attend to the communications 
of wisdom, nor the sensual who will 
most highly esteem the lessons of 
virtue. There are some of the pre- 
sent class on whom the efforts of the 
philosopher and of the moralist are 
especially thrown away — and such may 
be met in every rank of society. 
There is, however, one striking cir- 
cumstance generally attending this 
kind of degradation, that is, a lingering 
sense of acknowledged guilt. Ordi- 
nary sin may, in a great degree, hide 
her hideousness from her captives; 
but sin of the grosser sort cannot so 
blind her victim to the wretchedness 
of his condition. The poor profligate 



191 

who has long done violence to a striv- 
ing conscience, and fallen infinitely 
below even his own moral standard, 
however low he may have fixed it, has 
no pretext left him for attempting 
self-justification. His iniquities are 
"known and read by all men," and 
glare too strongly on him to escape 
his observation. Hence, under God, 
it comes to pass that the thunders of 
the divine law so often wake a loud 
echo in his soul, and he trembles at the 
"wrath denounced against all ungod- 
liness and unrighteousnes of men." 
Hence the Gospel message is so often 
known to overwhelm him with glad 
surprize, and melt all his affections 
into grateful adoration. The suffer- 
ings of his sinless Redeemer present 
a soul-touching contrast to the vile- 
ness of his own self- wrought ruin ; and 
to know that Redeemer suffered for 
the chief of sinners, while he feels 
himself to be such, moves him as he 



192 

never before was moved. — It is obvious 
that all this will apply in proportion 
to the lesser degress of sensual aban- 
donment. All, but the atheist, have 
some standard of morals — it may be 
so erroneously fixed as to rank with 
virtues, or palliate, many sins of the 
mind, but there will ever be sins of 
the flesh condemned by the most 
imperfect standard. Hence our Lord 
declared to the self-vindicating Pha- 
risees, "verily I say unto you the 
Publicans and the harlots enter into 
the kingdom of God before you." 
The rich and free provisions of 
divine salvation are indeed wonderfully 
adapted to the condition of all man- 
kind; but this adaptation is more 
generally remarkable in the instance 
we are upon, where guilt is more 
palpably evident to itself and others. 
It ought not to be so, yet it is so. 
The Scriptures appear to represent the 
sins of the mind as worst in the divine 



193 

estimation, and they ought con- 
sequently to be so in ours — but in the 
world at large the fact is otherwise. 
While the vices of the heart are 
generally glossed over, palliated, or 
defended, grosser vices are as ge- 
nerally allowed to be such by him 
whom they have enslaved, as well as 
by all others. Therefore conviction 
of guilt goes commonly deeper, and is 
more intolerable, when such persons 
are brought into penitence before God; 
and, as the passage above quoted 
intimates, there will commonly be 
then a proportionate demand for full 
and free pardon, and a willingness to 
accept it. With what a majesty of 
mercy does the Gospel meet such a 
case. It lays no limit on the offered 
pardon ; it makes no merit a condition 
of the proposed acceptance. It dis- 
plays not at distance a future attain- 
able salvation, but brings nigh a 
present and complete one, announcing 
s 



194 

that W he who believeth on the Soo 
hath everlasting life." 

Nor is it less adapted to regenerate 
the character than to pacify the con- 
science of the penitent prodigal. 
Once enabled to receive the truth 
in love, he will be led by a sense of 
interest, by duty, by inclination, to 
converse often with the communi- 
cations of truth. Here every thing is 
holy and tends to the production of 
holiness. He finds a moral system 
enforced by the authority of his Re- 
deemer, with which any thing known 
elsewhere will not endure compa- 
rison. Its lessons are all for the heart ; 
and inculcate purity, and heal cor- 
ruption, at the fountain of the affec- 
tions. They search out iniquity 
through all its lurking places, drag it 
into day, and expose its deformity to 
the reprobation of conscience, how- 
ever the moralists of another school 
may seek to disguise it. They admit 
d ewodg btm t bhow eU 



195 

among the actuating principles of 
obedience no motive unbecoming a 
Creature responsible to his Creator, 
but lay the foundations of virtue deep 
in the knowledge, the love, the 
reverence, of the most High, He 
finds this moral system recommended 
by many impressive examples, above 
all by that of Him who not only spoke 
as no other spoke, but lived as no other 
lived. The awful sanctity of this 
perfect example is softened, and ren- 
dered more interesting still, by a 
variety of affecting circumstances 
through the medium of which it is 
presented. The lustre of divinity 
shines mellowed through the cloud of 
humanity. In all the doctrines, in all 
the recorded 6r predicted providences, 
in every portion of the sacred word, 
is the same divine holiness brought 
before him. His mind is placed in 
contact with the purity of God. And 
when revelation lifts the veil of the 
invisible world, and shows him angelic 



196 ' 

existence, a reflection of that purity 
again descends upon him. He is in- 
troduced altogether into a new scene, 
where he converses with virtue in all 
her heavenly forms. He breathes an 
atmosphere of moral salubrity. The 
fever of sensuality abates, the health 
of his soul returns, and he is created 
anew by faith in Christ Jesus. These 
are effects which no other religion could 
have wrought upon him. Others lend 
the sanction of pretended authority 
to vice, and consecrate the corruptions 
of human nature, or denounce them 
feebly and partially at best — while 
Christianity wages exterminating war 
against them with all the force of her 
vindicated claims; nor does she com- 
bat them with mere prohibition, but 
brings to operate against them a host 
of sacred influences. Inducing holier 
habits of mind, she applies an effectual 
counteraction at the very source of 
depravity. 
2. The prominent developement of 



197 

pride constitutes another remarkable 
distinction of character. What pride 
is, it were superfluous to define, since 
it is in some degree a subject of con- 
sciousness to every one. It is obvious 
indeed that this passion powerfully 
tends to hinder the reception of the 
Gospel, especially when combined with 
outward decorum of life. It is this 
that builds up the strong-hold of self- 
justification, bids defiance to the thun- 
ders of the law, and scorns the strain 
of redeeming mercy. While the con- 
sciousness of abandoned and gross 
criminality becomes often the means, 
under God, of procuring for the em- 
bassy of salvation a serious hearing, 
the proud imagination of moral excel- 
lence no less often fortifies the heart, 
and closes the ear, against it. But as 
the Gospel, when received by the 
penitent profligate, meets him with a 
salvation fully and exclusively com- 
mensurate to the wants of his guilty 

s 



198 

and depraved condition, providing 
equally for the peace of his conscience 
and the regeneration of his character 
— so, when received into a naturally 
proud and self-applauding mind, it is 
no less adapted to the exigencies of 
its peculiar case. The profligate may 
continue impenitent and unbelieving — 
the proud moralist may be humbled 
and brought to a joyful confession of 
faith; but what we desired to point 
out was not a willingness to hear the 
Gospel more usual in the former, but 
an adaptation in the Gospel to the 
peculiarities of his case — and what 
we would at present point out, is not 
an aversion from the Gospel more 
usual in the latter, but an adaptation 
of it to the peculiarities of his case 
too, when its doctrines are cordially 
embraced. We speak of an exclusive 
adaptation in the Christian Religion 
to heal and regenerate the various 
modifications of human depravity; 



199 

and it is evident that the influence of 
its doctrines can be experienced only 
where they are believed. We shall 
now consider how it heals the malady 
under consideration. 

The pride of self-righteousness 
evidently is fostered by the recognition 
of an imperfect standard of duty. So 
long as it is believed that a few ex- 
ternal religious rites, with occasional 
almsgiving, and a general decorum in 
the intercourse of life, make up all 
that is required from man by the re- 
lation wherein he stands to God, so 
long the complacency of the Pharisee 
may be maintained within ; for a 
standard so low may be reached with- 
out difficulty, and is reached by the 
practice of many. But elevate the 
standard — and in proportion as this 
is done, complacency will decline ; for 
as our views of duty are exalted, we 
shall feel that we have acted below 
them. We cannot elevate our conduct 



200 

past, in proportion as our views of 
what we ought to have done become 
elevated. While the understanding is 
enlightened on the subject of duty, the 
foundations of self-righteousness are 
therefore undermined. If it be be- 
lieved that to give unto God an un- 
reserved devotion of the heart and life 
would be only to comply with the 
requirements of a reasonable service, 
the self-complacency of proud ignor- 
ance is at an end — since it is a fact 
that below such a standard of duty 
all mankind have infinitely fallen. 
And such is the standard of duty 
which the Gospel actually displays. 
Therefore to believe the Gospel and 
indulge self-righteousness involves a 
practical contradiction. The examples 
of holiness recorded in Scripture, and 
above all that of our Lord himself, 
tend to produce the same feeling of 
abasement, while they are contrasted 
with the deficiency which he who 



201 

seriously considers them will perceive 
in himself. The doctrines of Scrip- 
ture have all a similar tendency. It 
is surely humbling to learn that our 
common nature has so deeply lapsed 
from original righteousnes, that every 
imagination to which it gives birth 
"is only evil continually," and that the 
human heart " is deceitful above all 
things and desperately wicked." It 
is humbling to discover, so infinite 
was the guilt contracted by men, that 
the ransom requisite for its removal 
was the blood of the infinitely glorious 
and holy one. It is humbling to be as- 
sured, so strong and inveterate is our 
natural depravity that, ere we can 
even desire to be healed, an operation 
of almighty power must pass upon us. 
Nor less humbling is the awful truth 
which declares mankind so vile that, 
as the potter moulds variously at his 
will the same worthless clay, so God 
without injustice deals with the worth- 



202 

less material of our fallen nature, 
subjecting it, in one instance, to a 
process of amelioration, and, in ano- 
ther giving it up to a process of 
deterioration, according to his So- 
vereign pleasure. The recorded and 
the predicted visitations of judgment 
in this world are humbling. The 
denunciations of a wrath, reserved be- 
yond the grave for the wicked, are 
humbling. The image of the heavenly 
state, presented in the inspired page, 
is humbling — for what a contrast is 
exhibited by the best estate of man on 
earth ! Every thing in the volume of 
revealed wisdom is invested with an 
abasing power. God has charged his 
Revelation with a universal com- 
mission to lay low the thoughts of 
every heart into which she finds an 
entrance. But it is important to ob- 
serve that the very system of truth 
which humbles the mind, at the same 
time soothes and animates it — in- 



203 

spiring the highest hopes, and impar- 
ting the most permanent peace, 
Christianity manages the heart with 
that mixture of tenderness and firm- 
ness which is ever morally irresistible. 
She lays us in the dust, but it is that 
she may the better elevate us to heaven. 
This is the most effectual discipline to 
which pride can be subjected. And a 
soul subdued to God will be meek 
toward man. A prevailing sense of 
unworthiness will lower our demands 
on the homage of our fellow-creatures ; 
and a contrite spirit will produce a 
humble demeanour. A truth so evi- 
dent has no need of proof. 

Anger, malevolence, envy, if not 
mere modifications of pride, are at 
least among the effects and inseparable 
attendants of it. As pride decreases 
they will therefore decrease. When 
the stem from which they hang is cut 
asunder, they will wither away. But 
Christianity has in her stores some- 



204 

what peculiarly adapted to eradicate 
each of them. The realizing foresight 
of a wrath to come tends powerfully 
to moderate anger in a sinful mortal. 
The meekness and gentleness of a 
Saviour, professedly recorded for our 
imitation, more powerfully tend the 
same way. The divine forbearance 
affectingly remonstrates against an 
unforbearing temper; the precepts of 
wisdom, softened and strengthened 
by the claims of love, plead effectually 
with it. The views imparted by 
Christianity concerning the condition 
of mankind, and the knowledge that 
she gives of a remedy universally 
applicable, were it universally ap- 
preciated, will originate sentiments of 
pity and benevolence toward the 
human race; and the views of her 
disciple on the subject of that peculiar 
and endearing relation which obtains 
among the Children of God, will bind 
his affections to them with a tie yet 



205 

stronger. Where shall anger, male- 
volence, and envy, then find room for 
the exercise of uncontrolled dominion? 
Much more might be said on this por- 
tion of our subject, if the assigned 
limits of a Sermon permitted; and 
the special adaptation of Christianity 
to the cure of each of those maladies 
might be shown more at large. But 
the principle point has, we hope, 
sufficiently been illustrated— namely, 
that Christianity lays the axe to the 
root of them all, pride. No other 
religion does this — the doctrine of 
human depravity, borne out as it is 
by fact and experience, is absolutely 
peculiar to the Christian. The prin- 
ciple of legalism enters essentially 
into every other system; they are all 
founded on the assumption of a power, 
inherent in man, of effecting his own 
justification before God. Hence the 
passion of pride, laid low by the doc- 
trine of the cross, is fostered and 



206 

invigorated by every other; and con- 
sequently its train of attendant evils 
is encouraged also. A powerless pro- 
hibition is laid upon it, whose force is 
counteracted and nullified by the 
general tendency of the system. 

3. Another class of character, dis- 
tinct from the foregoing, and not less 
worthy of remark, is what may be 
denominated the timid. Many qua- 
lities of amiable aspect originate in 
timidity of disposition; a yielding fa- 
cility, an unoffending gentleness, a 
retiring diffidence, are frequently its 
offspring. But in a world where 
temptations are thickly strown, and 
virtue must encounter opposition, an 
upright course cannot be maintained 
without the exercise of fortitude. 
Here the timid fail. The influence of 
example and persuasion hurry them 
down a career of folly, against which 
their own judgment protests, and their 
weak struggles are exerted, in vain. 



207 

The amount of their criminality is 
more than would result from their own 
unbiassed election. With the virtuous 
they may admire virtue, with the 
pious they may approve of piety ; but 
the company of the dissolute and 
profane sweeps, like a torrent, all their 
better thoughts away. They lack the 
firm boldness necessary for resisting 
the frown, the laugh, and the seduction, 
of society. There is also another 
defect allied closely with timidity of 
mind — it usually generates a des- 
ponding habit; for the same imagi- 
nation that invests an approaching 
evil with additional terrors, will natu- 
rally anticipate a distant or uncertain 
one, until the actual calamities of life 
are reinforced with a host of others 
existing only in idea. The unhappy 
consequences are evident. The cloud 
of despondency sheds a damp on the 
kindling conception of every great and 
good undertaking. Obstacles to the 



208 

completion of it are magnified where 
they are, and imagined where they are 
not. The difficulties that oppose the 
attainment of excellence in the noblest 
departments, those of piety and worth, 
are real and momentous — contem- 
plated with the eye of despondency, 
they are insuperable. Hope is the 
soul of enterprize — despondency is the 
death of it ; and piety has her enter- 
prizes which need an animating influ- 
ence. Such appear to be the most 
prominent defects allied to the timid 
character. We shall now consider 
how the Gospel is adapted to remove 
them. 

A characteristic prominence of timi- 
dity implies of course a peculiar sus- 
ceptibility of the impressions of fear. 
If this very susceptibility, in whose 
pervertion originate all the defects 
peculiar to the present class of cha- 
racter, be found actually employed 
for the regeneration of that character, 



209 

the exquisite arrangement of eternal 
wisdom is beautifully exhibited before 
us. It is indeed partly by such a 
method that Christianity makes up 
the moral breach of the timid cha- 
racter. Does she then perpetuate the 
evil she would heal? No— the fear 
she employs is rational and noble; it 
is only that which she expels that is 
base and absurd. The filial reverence 
of the Father of spirits is just and 
dignified in the most exalted of 
creatures ; and this is one engine which 
Christianity moves against the en- 
thralling fear of the world. The 
malign influence of unhallowed society 
is neutralized in a mind that realizes 
the presence, and bows to the autho- 
rity, of God. This potent principle 
(which we have already proved the 
exclusive offering of Christianity*) 
emboldens and invigorates the mind 
to shake off the incubus that lies on 

*In Sermon 2. 

t2 



210 

her moral powers, and, undaunted by 
the menace of a thousand difficulties, 
to run with patient perseverance in 
an upright career. Nor is the pro- 
cess of amelioration confined to this, 
Christianity not only impels the timid 
by the influence of a dignified and 
rational fear, but she acts upon him in 
a manner more palpably amiable — she 
animates — oh! with what consolation. 
She lets down her ladder of communi- 
cation from Heaven to the exile in 
the wilderness, and angels ascend and 
descend with messages of everlasting 
love. She diffuses the light of divine 
promise over all the distress of the 
present and the uncertainty of the 
future, i Her breath dispels the cloud 
of desponding fear, until the beams of 
a Sun of Righteousness illuminate all 
the soul. Her hope-inspiring spirit 
gives ardour to every heavenly enter- 
prize, and urges it on with assurance 
of a final triumph. And where, but 



211 

in her treasury, can be found the riches 
of such hope and such consolation? 
What other religion can bring peace 
with God into the midst of a guilty 
conscience ? Has either the ignorance, 
or the wisdom, of the world ever 
attained so blessed a result? Have 
they solved the question how God can 
be just and justify the ungodly? 

Christianity, thus adapted to re- 
medy the defects of the most opposite 
varieties of character, must be fitted 
to shed a most benign influence on the 
intercourse of society. And this is 
what we find exemplified in the every- 
day operation of its genuine principles. 
All the modifications of natural cha- 
racter are found within the sphere of 
that operation. The sensual, the 
proud, and the timid, with every inter- 
vening shade of diversity, have become 
disciples of the New Testament; and 
the most discordant dispositions are 
harmonized by the charm of its doc- 



212 

trines. The energetic, and the gentle, 
the prodigal reclaimed, and the hum- 
bled Pharisee, are blended in one 
communion of purity and peace. The 
ox and the lion feed, and the wolf 
and the lamb lie down, and the serpent 
and the suckling play together, in the 
shadow of that tree whose leaves are 
for the healing of the earth. 



SERMON Till. 



THE TENDENCY DERIVED TO 

AFFLICTION FROM THE PRINCIPLES 

OF PIETY. 



2 Corinthians iv. 17> 18* 

" Our light affliction which is but for 
a moment, ivorketh for us a far more 
exceeding and eternal weight of glory; 
while we look not at the things which are 
seen, but at the things which are not 
seen : for the things which are seen are 
temporal; but the things which are not 
seen are eternal.''' 

The afflictions of human life have 
formed the theme of many a moral- 
ist, and many an eloquent declaimer, 



214 

who have pourtrayed with all the 
beauty of pathos the miseries entailed 
upon mankind. They have painted frail 
and feeble humanity, thrown naked 
and defenceless on the desert of life, 
exposed to ills from which inferior 
natures are exempt. While their 
sustenance is poured from the spon- 
taneous earth, and they come into 
being, furnished with all things need- 
ful for the accommodation of their lot, 
man is described as every where 
condemned by necessity to perpetual 
toil; and while their diseases are few 
and infrequent, and ready instinct leads 
them to remedies in every field and 
grove, he is represented as the victim 
of numberless maladies which all his 
superior faculties often fail to prevent 
or remove. He is described as en- 
tering life with a cry, and leaving it 
in agony — as pursued through all his 
pilgrimage by sorrow in her thousand 
forms; as condemned by the posses- 



215 

sion of his boasted reason to peculiar 
pain, in the remembrance of past, and 
the anticipation of future, evil — as 
finding at last a refuge and a rest only 
in the dark and silent chambers of 
the grave. 

But the picture, though affecting, is 
incomplete. They have omitted a 
class of sufferings with which no incon- 
siderable portion of the human race 
have been, and are still, affected. 
They have told us nothing of the suf- 
ferings to which piety is exposed. 
They have passed over in total silence 
the peculiar sorrows within to which 
the Christian life is subjected, and 
those external trials to which it exclu- 
sively is liable— ignorant and unin- 
terested with regard to the one, and 
unwilling, perhaps, to remember the 
other, as being no equivocal indication 
of enmity, on the part of the world, 
against pure and practical religion- 
The sufferings of martyrs, unparal- 



216 

lelled in severity, and endured with 
more than heroic fortitude, had no- 
thing to attract the sympathy, or 
excite the admiration, of worldly 
minds; and the Christian of more 
peaceful times may pass through his 
little scene of conflict and petty per- 
secution, unnoticed by all mankind, 
except those who contribute to his 
sorrows, or those who are involved in 
similar. It is not unworthy of obser- 
vation that the sacred writers take up 
this subject not only in the way of 
narrative, but prophetically too. They 
not only record the sorrows to which 
believers of former times were sub- 
jected, but they give us to understand 
that something resembling them must 
more or less accompany the pilgrimage 
of faith in every age, while the world 
continues what it is. The divine 
Author of the Gospel himself warned 
his disciples of this. He promised 
them not a calm continuance of sun- 



217 

shine and joyful hours, while they were 
occupied in his service on earth — he 
showed the gathering clouds, and fore- 
told the coming storm. There is a 
holy undisguisedness of purpose in all 
this, that appeals to every conscience. 
Such a mode of proceeding was not of 
the earth, earthly. It is not the experi- 
ence of the world that he who would 
lure men into a dangerous enterpize, 
by holding out fallacious promises of 
a distant recompense, has ever ad- 
dressed them at large on the perils to 
be encountered, and the sufferings to 
be sustained, if they would be followers 
of him. Men in such a situation have 
ever kept so disagreeable a topic as far 
as possible out of view. It is not in 
the nature of deceivers to act other- 
wise — their object is to attract, and 
they must therefore forbear the men- 
tion of every thing calculated to repel. 
To act otherwise has ever belonged to 
conscious integrity alone. He whose 
u 



218 

object is not to gain adherents to him- 
self, but to advance the cause of truth, 
can afford to be candid — it is consistent 
with his aims to be so. He may warn 
those whom he would persuade to fol- 
low him, of endurances to which thev 
must submit, if they would be his 
disciples; and if he does so, he gives 
one proof of his sincerity. Such was 
the sacred candour exhibited by Christ 
himself in dealing with his Apostles, 
and by the Apostles in dealing with 
the first converts of Christianity. 

Of such a proof of divine origin our 
religion alone is capable. No other has 
exposed its professors to a hostility on 
the part of the world, varying in form, 
but in spirit ever essentially the same ; 
therefore had the founders of other 
religions, so called, been disposed to 
deal candidly with their followers, they 
had in this instance no opportunity of 
exhibiting a proof of it. Other creeds, 
from accidental association with the 



219 

principles of a political party, may 
have seemed to provoke a partial and 
temporary opposition, of which the 
real cause was political altogether; 
the religion of the Scriptures has 
uniformly drawn the world's enmity in 
every land and every period. Other 
creeds leave the heart undisturbed, 
and cause no new internal trials ; the 
religion of the Scriptures has ever 
given occasion to them, wherever it 
has existed in its reality. But if 
there be afflictions peculiar to the 
Christian, his afflictions have this pe- 
culiarity too — they finally bring a be- 
nefit along with them. For him the 
sting of sorrow, as well as that of 
death, is taken away, and the curse is 
turned into a blessing. Affliction is 
to him no minister of wrath, but an 
angel of mercy. There are many, in- 
deed, who profess assent to the divine 
authority of the Scriptures, yet sneer, 
or wonder, when we talk of sanctified 



220 

affliction. Their minds are so busied 
with the affairs of time, their affec- 
tions are so buried among the objects 
of sense, that they have no leisure to 
employ about the things of eternity, 
no desire for the blessings promised 
to faith. Over all that is heavenly 
there is to them a cloud of thick 
darkness outspread. But if there be 
in man a two-fold nature, if he possess 
not alone an animal frame, but an 
intellectual spirit, external circum- 
stances only cannot constitute his 
happiness, while his internal condition 
wants the elements of true enjoyment. 
If he was created for eternity, and 
bears within him a sort of instinctive 
consciousness of this, the possession 
of all earth could not render him 
blessed, nor any thing whereon there 
is not stamped the attribute of a 
duration commensurate with his own. 
Give him all that wealth ever conferred, 
or ambition attained — lay at his feet 



221 

all the grandeur, and draw around hiui 
all the pleasures, of the world— and 
you leave him poor and miserable still, 
while conscious that he must exist for 
ever, and possessing nothing that he can 
take with him beyond the grave. You 
profess to realize your immortality, 
and profess to venerate the Scriptures 
of truth. Be consistent, and attend 
with seriousness to a subject like the 
present. We shall now endeavour to 
explain how it is peculiar to the Chris- 
tian that his afflictions are always in 
the end followed by a happy result- 
It will readily be acknowledged that 
in general an event, ivhich affects the 
human mind at all, will affect it accor- 
ding to the nature of the principles 
which it finds ivithin it. A few ex- 
amples will illustrate what we mean. 
Firmness on the part of a Sovereign 
will suppress discontent, in a portion 
of his empire where the principle of 
loyalty is at bottom sound; but the 
u2 



222 

very same firmness, exercised at a 
time when loyalty has been supplanted 
by the desire of revolution, will have 
no other effect than aggravating and 
confirming discontent, and urging it 
on to desperation. A just severity on 
the part of a father, toward a son 
who cherishes an unnatural aversion 
from him, will only contribute to ren- 
der the aversion permanent, and will 
give new heat and bitterness to the 
parricidal passions within him; while 
the very same chastisement, exercised 
toward a son in whom the principle of 
filial affection is firmly seated, will be 
the means of recalling him from a 
temporary disobedience, and fixing 
him in habits of duty. But let us 
suppose the father to accompany his 
chastisement of the son who hates him 
with a firm but fond remonstrance, 
lamenting over his frowardness, war- 
ning him of its ultimate consequences 
if persevered in, and using every 



touching argument that wisdom and 
tenderness can suggest, in order to 
reclaim him — chastisement may make 
the son attentive to all this, which he 
otherwise would have refused to hear; 
and the expostulation may now find 
its way to his judgment and affections ; 
and a radical change maybe thus ef- 
fected in his moral character — but no 
one will say that the mere chastisement 
could of itself have effected this 
change — it could do no more than 
compel attention to the counsels of 
his father, and these, being listened to, 
produced their intended effect. Thus 
an afflictive dispensation from the 
Father of spirits cannot, of itself, work 
any change in the religious character. 
The effect of such an event on one 
who was previously averse from God 
may be, and often is, to irritate, and 
repel him farther still if possible — at 
the utmost it can only arrest his atten- 
tion to the divine word, and that word, 



224 

if sent into his heart with almighty 
power, will become the instrument of 
a change which affliction alone could 
never have produced. Every natural 
mind is characterized by a disincli- 
nation to the service of God — it is a 
rebel offspring of the everlasting 
Father, alienated from all that is holy 
and good; wherefore the more usual 
effect of calamity on unregenerate 
persons, even where they admit that it 
has come from the hand of God, is to 
embitter and harden the heart, if it 
produces any effect at all. They have 
no principle of loyalty to God, no 
filial feeling toward hint* — they shrink 
from him as from a powerful enemy, 
and regard his afflictive dealings as 
the ebullitions of vindictive severity— 
and therefore are so often unprofited 
by all those dealings; and in that 
habitation where the stroke of the 
Almighty has been most keenly felt, 
the voice of blasphemy has been lifted 
bnim 



225 

up against him. We have hitherto 
been speaking of those instances 
wherein the children of the world 
regard their afflictions as sent from 
God; but it is not always that they so 
regard them. Ills of unusual occur- 
rence, or whose immediate cause is 
unknown, are attributed to the hand 
of the Almighty; but in common 
calamities, and where second causes 
are visible, his operation is most fre- 
quently overlooked. Surrounded" by 
the ravages of a pestilence, they can 
talk of divine providence; but the dis- 
appointment of their plans, or any 
other ordinary judgment, is attributed 
only to chance, or their own impru- 
dence, or the malice of enemies — in 
oblivion of Him who sits in presiding 
wisdom over all events, himself the 
cause of every cause, the mover of 
those springs that move the world. 
Where affliction is not even traced to 
the providence of God, how can it be 
expected to lead the mind to him 



226 

If He be forgotten while the tide of 
sorrow flows and subsides, how can 
it deposit on the heart the seeds of 
vital religion? That is, indeed, a 
happy hour in the history of a sinner, 
when, recognizing in his affliction the 
doings of a Paternal hand, he becomes 
willing to hear that divine commu- 
nication within whose reach he would 
not venture before; while the Spirit of 
grace, accompanying the message of 
truth, applies it to his conscience, and 
his heart, rends the vail which hid from 
him eternity, and bids him look unto 
a Mediator of salvation enthroned at 
the right hand of the Majesty on high. 
Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing 
by the word of God — and any thing is 
a blessing which brings us within its 
sound, if the Spirit convey it to the 
heart. Then may the song of the 
psalmist be taken up — " before I was 
afflicted I went astray, but now have 
I kept thy word." 

Having shown why men of the world 



227 

do not usually, nor in any case directly, 
derive religious benefit from affliction, 
we shall now attempt to show why 
every Christian in the end must derive 
}t. We do not affirm that every par- 
ticular affliction immediately and 
visibly promotes his spiritual welfare ; 
but that his afflictions, taken altoge- 
ther, prove ultimately a blessing to 
him. We have seen that affliction, 
like every other kind of event, will 
affect the mind according to its prin- 
ciples — that, because alienation from 
God is the distinguishing feature in 
the moral character of every unre- 
generate mind, men of the world are 
for the most part hardened by it; and 
that at best it can only be the means 
of arresting their attention to the 
Gospel, but not of effecting their 
conversion to God. We have seen 
also that in many cases they do not 
even recognize the hand of God in 
their calamities, which it is irrational 
bhow orii lo nam ^dw nwoda 'gal ' 



228 

to suppose can then effect their re- 
ligious benefit. We proceed to con- 
trast with all this the influence of his 
principles on the suffering Christian, 
and the tendency which, under God, 
they impart to his afflictions. 

1. Consider the condition in which 
he stands with regard to God. It is 
diametrically opposite to that in which 
the children of the world are found. 
They, not having received the Gospel, 
are destitute of the blessings which it 
holds out to mankind — but the Gospel 
has gained admission into his heart, 
and conveyed its treasures along with 
it. They are guilty, and bear within 
them an unsatisfied conscience— he, 
being justified by faith, has peace with 
God, through the atoning death of his 
Son; they are alienated and averse 
from God; he is brought nigh and 
reconciled by the influence of the 
eternal Spirit. He is a child of God. 
Filial confidence and love spring up 



229 

within him, from the knowledge of a 
full salvation freely conferred. Oh! 
what moral miracles that truth has 
worked in man, "the blood of Jesus 
Christ cleanseth us from all sin." 

Look at the light which this must 
throw on the darker dispensations of 
divine providence — they are no longer 
contemplated as the dealings of an 
enemy, but as coming from a hand that 
kindly orders all our concerns, to per* 
feet and perpetuate our welfare. This 
is what the Scripture authorizes, in 
many a passage, which will be gladly 
received by the same faith which has 
received the message of reconciliation. 
A truth so delightful the believer will 
readily admit. Knowing, then, that 
he is afflicted in order that he may be 
partaker of the divine holiness; and 
assured that love employs, and mo- 
derates, and shall yet remove the rod, 
how can he indulge a dark and sullen 
hatred against the Being who holds it ? 



230 

How can it separate bis soul from the 
love of Christ? How can it repel him 
for ever from the Father of mercies 
and God of all consolation ? Shall it 
not rather prove the means of reclaim- 
ing him from a temporary backsliding, 
and confirming him in the habits of a 
filial obedience? The principles of 
love and loyalty are sound within him; 
and these must finally decide the effect 
of an affliction which comes to him 
stamped with the impress of a Sove- 
reign and a Father's hand. However, 
like the patriarch, overwhelmed for a 
season, he shall still with him exclaim, 
"I know that my Redeemer liveth;" 
and, although his chastening for the 
present be not joyous but grievous, it 
shall afterward assuredly yield the 
peaceable fruit of righteousness to him 
who is exercised thereby. 

2. The Christian is taught to con- 
sider all events as disposed by the 
wisdom of the Eternal, without whose 



231 

will not even a sparrow can fall to the 
ground. Whether his trials arise in 
the course of nature, and are the 
immediate result of some visible cause 
— or whether some unwonted visi- 
tation reaches him, and second causes 
are concealed from his view— his prin- 
ciples lead him to consider affliction, in 
either case, as coming from the divine 
hand. Whether his sufferings are in- 
flicted without the intervention of 
man, or advance upon him through the 
malignity of a hostile world — whether 
he is called to endure privation, or 
bereavement, or disease, or perse- 
cution, or internal conflict,— it is no 
more than consistent with his views to 
recognize the rod, and Him who hath 
appointed it. Hence whatever benefit 
affliction, as corning from God, is cal- 
culated to convey to him, it must in 
every instance be calculated to convey 
it. 
3. He is enabled to look bevond the 



232 

boundary that separates the things 
which are seen and temporal from 
those which are unseen and eternal. 
In the pardon and peace of the Gospel 
a foretaste of blessedness hath entered 
his soul ; and hope, realizing the pro- 
mises of truth, expands before him 
bright visions of final felicity. In 
those regions where a rest remains for 
the people of God there is reserved, 
oh ! how much more than an equivalent 
for all of which the vicissitudes of life, 
or the stroke of death, may deprive 
him. His chief good cannot be lost — 
it is beyond the storms that agitate 
the world. His affliction is for a mo- 
ment, an eternal weight of glory shall 
succeed it. The consciousness of this 
must evidently tend to alleviate an- 
guish, to shut out the entrance of 
despair, and keep the mind still atten- 
tive to that Revelation of mercy from 
which a balm so precious has been ex- 
tracted. It is the absence of such a 



233 

consolation that has so often made 
sorrow fatal to the man of the world. 
Living without God, he lives without 
solid hope for eternity — his portion 
has been chosen below, and when that 
is gone, all to him is lost. What won- 
der, then, if in such a situation, when 
all that he loved, or looked with pride 
upon, is torn for ever from his grasp, 
while no light from Heaven descends 
on his darkness, revealing the way to 
rest — what wonder then, if, with foul 
and irretrievable act, he cast the boon 
of life back on his Creator, as a worth- 
less thing, and rush in recklessness on 
eternity? But the Christian has an 
anchor of the soul, too sure and stead- 
fast to be moved wholly away from 
him by the tempests of time — for it is 
cast within the vail that hides the 
sanctuary of Heaven. 

Thus the influence of Christianity 
gives a new tendency to affliction, 
and robs it of its natural sting. The 
x2 



234 

believer will regard it as sent from a 
Heavenly Parent, and will sustain it 
under a sense of Heavenly consolation. 
It conies to him from God, and will 
lead him to God. It remains to give 
an outline of its principal effects on 
his character. The design of Jehovah, 
in the trials of his people of old, is 
stated to have been to humble and to 
prove them. The principles on which 
he deals with them, issuing from im- 
mutable wisdom, are the same in every 
age; and the same design is still mani- 
fest in his providential dispensations 
toward them. 

I. Affliction promotes in the Chris- 
tian a feeling of self-abasement — for 
it ever in his mind is associated with 
sin. In the unnumbered ills which 
press on suffering humanity the Scrip- 
ture has taught him to see the con- 
sequences of apostacy from God ; and 
he knows that, if no moral evil existed 
on earth, no natural evil could have 



235 

been permitted to enter. He sees 
nature compelled to plead the cause 
of her Sovereign with rebellious man, 
and the thorns of sorrow springing 
spontaneous over all the way of his 
revolt. In the calamities of the world 
he discerns the memorials of its guilt — 
and in that guilt he knows he has had 
his participation. The Scripture has 
taught him, too, that when he is chas- 
tened of the Lord, it is that he may 
Jbe saved from the foolishness bound 
up in his own heart, and may not be 
condemned with the world. His af- 
fliction he knows to be lighter than his 
sins. Hence divine chastisement will 
bring the present state of his soul 
more prominently on his attention, 
and with quicker eyes than usual he 
will search and try his ways. What 
effect can serious self-examination 
have on a sinner, but the effect of self- 
abasement! f£ These trials," will he 
think, "are sent not in vain — my cor- 



236 

rection in righteousness is intended"— 
and he will examine and judge himself 
—and the deeper he looks into his 
heart the more of its unfathomable 
iniquity will he discover ; the longer 
he scrutinizes his doings, the more 
sensibly will he feel that in all things 
he has come short of the glory of God, 
Unsuspected hitherto, many hidden 
corruptions will now be brought into 
light; and practices of which the evil 
was not before observed will now 
appear without disguise. There will 
be within him not the pangs of afflic- 
tion alone, but the workings of a godly 
sorrow. His repentance will be re- 
newed, and he will be lowlier than 
ever in his own esteem. If humility 
toward the teacher be essential to the 
progress of the taught, what quality 
can be more indispensable in the 
school of Christian discipleship? The 
virtues of the New Testament are 
exotics to the heart, and it is only as 



237 

we feel the want of them that we can 
desire to cultivate them. 

II. Affliction will be a means of con- 
firming his principles. It will not only 
humble, but it will prove him too. A 
sufferer will desire consolation; and 
the Christian, assured that the sana- 
tory influences of the Comforter are 
within the reach of believing prayer, 
will, sooner or later, be driven by 
affliction to the throne of Grace. He 
may for a while endeavour to sustain 
himself by the feeble arm of a fellow- 
creature, but will at length have 
recourse to the help of his God, con- 
scious that there is none like it. Now 
the divine love is tasted anew, and the 
divine power more amply experienced. 
He is made to feel what God can per- 
form for those who wait upon him. 
The consoling Spirit pours into his 
heart the sweetness and fulness of the 
Gospel, and his still small voice repeats 
its assurances in the hearing of his 



238 

soul. With the key of promise, given 
him from above, he unlocks the prison 
of despondency, and walks forth in 
the light and liberty of the children of 
God. What effect may be expected to 
follow on his character, from this 
experience of the tenderness and fi- 
delity of his Heavenly Father? " Ex- 
perience worketh hope" — it confirms 
faith, and all the principles that arise 
from faith. He has met an accom- 
plishment of evangelic promises in his 
own personal history; and this aug- 
ments his conviction that every one of 
them shall yet be accomplished. — Nor 
will he forget why he was afflicted, — 
nor overlook that divine assurance, 
"if we judged ourselves we should not 
be judged of the Lord." He will there- 
fore fear to offend, lest his offence be 
visited with the rod of chastisement 
again. Aware, as he is, that the lo- 
ving-kindness of the Lord shall not be 
utterly taken from him, nor His fi- 



239 

delity suffered to fail, he will yet beware 
of provoking a repetition of the stripes 
with which his iniquity was corrected. 
Thus Affliction becomes the occasion 
of a beneficial effect being wrought on 
his character. After the storm has 
passed away, humility is found to have 
struck a deeper root ; faith lifts 
up its head, and, with all its at- 
tendant virtues, flourishes in additional 
vigour. It is true that even a Chris- 
tian, at times, has refused the lesson 
inculcated by means of affliction; but 
then a heavier blow has fallen, and the 
voice of correcting providence sounded 
louder in his ears, and compelled him 
to hear and profit. The Lord does not 
wantonly afflict; but when he does 
afflict, he will not suffer his gracious 
designs to be finally thwarted. Hence 
every learner in the school of Chris- 
tianity is compelled to make advances, 
and, however loath to learn by the ex- 
perience of sorrow, shall ultimately 



240 

derive enduring benefit from all his 
trials. He will survey all the way 
wherein the Lord hath led him — he 
will reflect on his paternal dealings 
with him, and mark the wisdom and 
graciousness that directed the trials, 
by which his own folly, at the time, 
may not have allowed him to profit — 
and his soul will be humbled within 
him, his confidence in the Rock of his 
salvation confirmed, and all the prin- 
ciples of piety established and strength- 
ened in his bosom. 

Affliction, then, is one of the means 
employed, in the wise and wondrous 
operation of God, for the preservation 
of his people from the evil that is in 
the world. Lest they should lose the 
narrow path, it is hedged on either 
side with thorns. While left below, 
to hold forth the word of life to a 
perishing generation, they are beset 
with temptations without; and lest 
they should be betrayed by corruption 



241 

within, their backslidings are followed 
by suffering. The way to the tree of 
life was guarded of old against the 
approach of the guilty — but now the 
flaming sword of divine chastisement 
is placed before the way of death, to 
deter from it the footsteps of the 
redeemed. And "our light affliction 
which is but for a moment worketh 
for us a far more exceeding and eternal 
weight of glory; while we look not at 
the things which are seen, but at the 
things which are not seen : for the 
things which are seen are temporal ; 
but the things which are not seen 
are eternal." 

aril mi 
letflid 

Iticft bloi 
bs^attod ad Wood 

Y 



SERMON IX. 



ON THE REVEALED HISTORY OF 

ANGELIC BEING. 

on to eovin 



wlimid 
Hebrews L— 7. 

" Of the angels he saith, who maikeih 
his angels spirits, and his ministers a 
flame of fire" 

■ 

Concerning that infinity which ex- 
tends upward from human nature to 
the throne of the Eternal, it is obvious 
that reason cannot with certainty in- 
form us whether it be an unoccupied 
void, or whether it be in part a peopled 
world, wherein order is elevated above 
order in the scale of intellectual being, 



243 

leaving between the highest of all 
and him who formed it an unoccupied 
infinity still. Reason may speculate 
on this subject, and even arrive at 
conclusions invested with the force of 
strong probability ; and so in fact she 
has done, when destitute of the guid- 
ance of Revelation. The efforts of 
unenlightened philosophy in this as in 
every similar department, were, in- 
deed, but feeble; it is, however, 
deeply interesting to the student 
of Revelation to find that her dis- 
coveries in this instance, as well as 
in others, confirm the conclusions of 
philosophy where evidently just, and 
correct them where demonstrably 
erroneous. 

1. Revelation has made known to 
us the existence of created intelligence 
superior to man, and diversified not 
only by degrees of dignity, but by 
varieties of nature. It makes men- 
tion of mighty spirits that expatiate 



244 

in scenes of invisible being — of angels 
and archangels, of Cherubim and 
Seraphim. Let those names, beautiful 
and majestic as they are, be forgotten 
for a moment, and let us now attend 
to the fact which has thus been brought 
to our knowledge. Is that fact one 
which reason would have led us to 
expect ? Is it one to which the deduc- 
tions of legitimate probability would 
have pointed ? 

If we observe a variety and a gra- 
dation in all the works of God in the 
universe of matter, as far as we are 
acquainted with them, although we 
cannot with infallible certainty argue 
from this to the existence of a like 
variety and a like gradation in the 
universe of mind, such is our mental 
constitution that a sort of analogical 
instinct inclines us to regard it as a 
probable conclusion. All that reason 
can advance in the shape of direct 
argument lies on the affirmative side of 



245 

this question; in aid of the negative 
she may suggest a doubt, but can do 
no more. All the efforts of philosophy 
can never liberate mankind from the 
ties that bind our actual observation of 
living intelligence to the sphere of our 
own world— it is reserved for death 
alone to accomplish this — to convey 
us to other scenes of being, and en- 
large the sphere of observation to 
unknown worlds. Man is undeniably 
separated from all other terrestial ex- 
istences by a vast and impassable 
chasm — by the possession of some- 
thing different in kind from any share 
or semblance of intelligence possessed 
by them, since its effects essentially 
differ from the effects of the latter — 
whether this something be called mind, 
or entitled by any other name. That 
there is a universe of mind, stretching 
beyond the bounds of our world, and 
as widely and regularly diversified as 
the universe of matter, none can dis- 
y2 



246 

prove. Analogy whispers that there 
is; and the balance of argument pre- 
ponderates altogether on this side. 
What extensive variety, what regular 
gradation of being, is observable in 
the brute creation, from the scarcely 
conscious condition of those half-plant, 
half-animal substances that float on 
ocean, the unresisting prey of every ene- 
my, up to the sagacity of the elephant. 
It is not merely that one individual of a 
species is found to differ widely from 
another, but species is found to differ 
from species more widely still. In the 
vegetable, and eveninthe mineral king- 
dom, the same variety, the same gra- 
dation, may be traced. But when, as- 
cending from order to order and from 
species to species, through the mineral, 
the vegetable, and the animalkingdoms, 
we at length arrive at man, a species 
is presented to our contemplation that 
stands alone in the visible universe. 
The seeming intelligence of the most 



247 

sagacious brute is incapable of self- 
augmentation. Such as the elephant 
was in the age of Porus such he is now.* 
But human existence is another thing; 
it has an innate power of expansion 
peculiar to it, which is able not only 
to subdue and change the face of earth, 
but greatly to modify the character of 
humanity itself. To this power, which 
we call mind, all earth contains nothing 
like or second ; it is distinct and alone. 
There is indeed equal, or greater, 
variety, among the individuals of the 
human species, than among the in- 
dividuals of any other species on the 
Globe; yet of mind one species alone 
comes within the sphere of our actual 
observation. But will not reason infer 

*The hypothesis of Darwin that brutes have a 
progressive intelligence, contradicted as it is by the 
observation of a hundred generations, does not well 
deserve a serious notice. Their acting variously 
under various circumstances only proves that dif- 
ferent instincts are called out by different causes. 



248 

the existence of others beyond that 
sphere ? While the mineral, the 
vegetable, and the animal kingdoms 
are regularly and almost infinitely 
diversified, does the intellectual king- 
dom break in, as an exception, on the 
general analogy of nature? In this 
the noblest department of creative 
operation did the divine wisdom forego 
the display of its wonted marvels, or 
the arm of omnipotence exhaust its 
energy on the formation of a single 
species ? Is not the intellectual king- 
dom carried upward from man, through 
ascending orders of more elevated 
being, in some distant sphere which 
the eye of science is not permitted to 
explore? 

We accordingly find that a belief in 
the existence of superior created 
intelligence has been general among 
mankind. But unenlightened imagi- 
nation has ever invested them with a 
character which cannot belong to them, 



249 

and the good spirits and benign ge- 
niuses of mythology were arrayed in 
all the vanities and infirmities of flesh 
— just as the Supreme Being was 
divested of his glory, and a mutilated 
notion of deity substituted in his place 
—while its evil geniuses and malignant 
spirits were not essentially different 
from the former, but one degrading 
participation in the passions of man- 
kind was common to both. The 
wisest of the heathen, who in theory 
and in practice alike poured his con- 
tempt on idle speculation, appears 
evidently to have admitted the ex- 
istence of ft demons," or intelligences ; 
yet the demons of Socrates wanted 
every heavenly trait that characterizes 
the angels of Revelation. 

2. That man was placed originally 
in a state of probation will be readily 
admitted by all who believe in a God. 
It is on all hands admitted also that 
mankind are now divided into two 



250 

great classes, the evil and the good — 
the virtuous and the wicked. If intel- 
lectual creatures exist beyond the 
habitation of mankind, it cannot be 
disproved that they too were placed 
by the Creator in a state of probation 
— nor can it be disproved that, in 
consequence, the world of spirits, 
like our own, is divided into good and 
evil. On the contrary the analogical 
principle would lead us to conclude 
that both these things are probably 
true. Men are not agreed in defining 
the line that separates between the 
good and evil here, but mark it out 
variously according to the standard of 
moral excellence they variously adopt ; 
yet all agree that it somewhere exists 
—and to believe that it goes forward 
through the invisible world, parting 
its inhabitants too, is an opinion na- 
tural to human reason. It is indeed 
but little light that reason can furnish 
for this subject, but whatever she gives 



251 

all points to such a conclusion. Accord- 
ingly every form of religion, as we 
have already mentioned, has divided 
the spiritual world into good and evil. 
With all this perfectly coincides the 
fact revealed in Scripture— that angels 
were placed originally in a state of 
probation, and that in consequence the 
angelic orders, like the human race, 
are now separated by the line that 
marks between evil and good. It is 
true, indeed, that all mankind are 
equally fallen, and the existence of 
"the excellent of the earth" is in 
Scripture attributed to the influence 
of divine grace alone; while of the 
angelic world a part only is described 
as fallen from their first estate, and the 
rest as owing their safety not to the 
regenerating, although to the elect- 
ing, goodness, of God — and so far a 
difference exists; but still our analogy 
essentially holds good. In either case 
there was a state of probation; there 



252 

is a consequent separation into good 
and evil. No imaginable reason can 
be assigned why the history of all 
worlds should fully coincide; and 
through cases marked by circum- 
stantial diversity the analogy for which 
reason looks out may be distinctly 
traced. 

3. Although mankind are far ex- 
celled by many of the brute creation 
in physical force, yet the power of 
intelligence gives them a universal 
dominion upon earth. Were the whole 
human race at once deprived of their 
distinguishing attribute of mind, and 
yet left in full possession of all their pre- 
sent bodily powers, that dominion must 
evidently cease. The monsters of the 
wilderness would soon learn the fatal 
secret of our degradation, and issuing 
from their retreats would recover their 
lost domains in the once civilized 
world, and, confining man within 
narrow and more narrow limits, at 



253 

length reduce him to the sole pos- 
session of some distant isles unattain- 
able by them, and to which the 
forgotten art of ; human ■ ^navigation 
had net previously conveyed them. 
Yet a creature,.- whose bodily resources 
are so feeble, is enabled by intellectual 
power to subject superior animal force 
to his will, and even to compel the 
very powers of nature to aid in extend- 
ing his dominion. It is surely, then, 
agreeable to reason and analogy to 
believe that intelligences superior to 
man must be in possession of resources 
of power proportionately greater than 
those which he can command. This 
indeed, like every thing incapable of 
a decision obtained by observation, or 
by demonstrative proof, might be 
questioned, if revelation did not render 
it certain; still probability would 
weigh down the balance on the affir- 
mative side. With this probability 
the information conveyed by the Scrip- 



254 

ture fully coincides — " angels are 
greater in power and might" than 
man. And this is sufficient to show- 
that the sneers of the infidel at the 
accounts contained in scripture of 
angelic agency, and of demoniacal 
possession, offend against the spirit of 
philosophy no less than they sin against 
the spirit of piety* Has he fully as- 
certained that no world of spirits is 
among the theatres whereon the 
Almighty arm has been employed? 
If he has not, and cannot ascertain 
this — if the whole influence of pro- 
bable reasoning be in favor of the con- 
trary; and if there be a gradation of 
substances ascending in refinement 
from the grossest to the most subtle 
that can be submitted to the senses of 
man, and from the latter to a point 
unattainable by human imagination — 
(as philosophy has rendered more than 
probable) and if the substance that 
clothes angelic being be the refined 



255 

habitation of intelligence greater than 
that of man, what is there which reason 
can condemn, in the belief, that beings 
endowed with such intellectual might, 
and invested with a substance so re- 
fined, are capable of acting on this 
world in a manner impossible to mor- 
tality ? The wonders achieved by our 
inferior intelligence, acting through 
an organization of flesh and blood, 
would amply justify that belief, even 
independently of the authority of 
revelation on which it is founded. 

4. There is, universal on earth, a 
natural subordination established by 
divine providence. The equality of 
the Jacobins was found a chimera, 
not to be realized even within the 
limits of their own club. Were a 
law this day carried into operation 
over the whole earth, reducing all 
mankind at once to the same level of 
rank and possession, one generation 
would be more than enough to develope 



256 

the subordinating principle again : 
worth and intelligence, enjoying secu- 
rity and freedom, would soon break 
up the diamonded partition, and 
create a new aristocracy although 
without the name. In times of anarchy 
the principle does not cease to work; 
for every revolution has had its leaders. 
And if in the world of -spirits, as 
analogy would persuade, a diversity 
of intelligence prevail among beings 
of the same species, like that which 
holds among mankind, is it not rational 
to believe that even there mental 
superiority must originate subordi- 
nation? In accordance with this we 
learn from the Scripture that Eternal 
Providence has diffused and maintains 
the principle of order throughout the 
invisible, as in the visible, world; we 
read of " thrones and dominions, prin- 
cipalities and powers," among the 
spirits of darkness and among the 
angels of light. 



257 

5. We shall now turn our attention 
to the character and employments of 
the latter, as they are made known in 
Scripture. The most cursory ob- 
servation will discern something pecu- 
liar in these. A scene is here presented 
to the mind, of which no likeness can 
be found below, whether in the region 
of reality or in that of imagination, 
unless it be the faint image of it which 
exists among the godly, and in the 
good man's heart. There is a sacred, 
unearthly, character about it, an aw r ful 
yet lovely purity, which distinguishes 
it wholly from all that eloquence could 
paint, or poetry conceive. The angels 
of Heaven are described as glowing 
in the contemplation of divine glory, 
imbibing blessedness in the presence 
and praise of Jehovah, catching the 
intimations of his will, and on wings 
of mighty zeal speeding from world to 
world in order to its accomplishment. 
Now this is a character with which 
z2 



258 

nothing in human nature is congenial. 
Every-day experience is a proof of 
this. Although mankind be equally 
with angels indebted to divine good- 
ness for existence and every blessing, 
and no less obliged than they to the 
love, the worship, and service of God, 
we know that a natural inclination to 
these cannot be found on earth. 
Wherever they exist among us, they 
are the fruit of instruction and con- 
viction, not originally appreciated, not 
originally entertained. So powerful, 
indeed, is our natural aversion from 
God and the things of God, as to afford 
a strong corroborative argument from 
reason for that necessity of divine 
influence, to effect our moral regenera- 
tion, which is so amply and decidedly 
taught by revelation. Accordingly 
the angelic character, however it may 
have compelled the awestruck ad- 
miration of unrenewed minds, is in- 
vested with too much of the attribute 



259 

of godliness to win their affection. 
That attribute, even in an angel, 
repels the depraved heart of man, 
and causes a feeling of cold disrelish 
to mingle with the involuntary ho- 
mage that he yields to the majesty of 
heavenly intelligence. We may, then, 
safelv aver that such a character could 
never have had its birth in the imagi- 
nation of man. A moral impossibility 
stood in the way of it. A being so 
estranged from God could not have 
conceived such a reflection of divine 
holiness ; and if he had conceived it, 
he would quickly have effaced it from 
his memory for ever, since he even 
liked not to retain God in his know- 
ledge. 

6. Not less remarkable is the ac- 
count contained in Scripture of the 
character and employments of fallen 
angels. Widely different as these are 
from the former, they are no less pecu- 
liar; nor is any thing similar to be 



2G0 

found among the descriptions of any 
other but the sacred volume. The 
evil spirits and geniuses of mythology 
were all invested with a malignity of 
which the creature only was the object. 
They were exclusively characterized 
according to the supposed bearing of 
their influence on the destinies of 
men, and no account of their relation 
toward the Supreme entered into the 
picture. They were represented as 
the patrons and perpetrators of crime, 
not of sin. Nothing could be more 
natural than this. The unregenerated 
mind of man ever contemplates human 
conduct (especially his own) principally, 
and, in a practical sense, exclusively, 
in its relation to the interests and 
opinions of society, not in its relation 
to the will of God. The ordinary 
language of the world in every period 
evinces this. Actions are spoken of as 
virtuous or vicious, laudable or blame- 
worthy, useful or injurious, but are 



261 

never characterized by their co- 
incidence or collision with the divine 
will, except where the name of deity 
is blasphemed, or his temple profaned, 
or in cases similar to these — as if our 
responsibility to our Maker were 
confined by names and local limits, 
beyond which we were amenable 
rather to the tribunal of society. But 
in Scripture a view wholly different is 
taken of the actions of men, and they 
are placed in the light of their relation 
to the will of God. Human characters 
are there condemned, not because 
their actual developement may be 
detrimental to the well-being, or odious 
in the estimation, of the world, but 
because their elements are hostile to 
divine authority. In the same light 
is the character of fallen angels repre- 
sented. They are described as fallen 
by transgression of the law of the 
Eternal, and filled with an all-dominant 
enmity against Him, An awful pecu- 



262 

liarity is indeed thrown around their 
character, when we are told, that, 
not spared by mercy and visited by 
hope, like the sinners of earth, but 
for ever despairing of restoration to 
their first estate, they make evil their 
good and destruction their joy, oc- 
cupying without intermission their 
fearful power in communicating to all 
whom they can bring within its 
operation the horrors in which hence- 
forth they have their own being. Can 
such a picture be considered for a 
moment the work of human invention ? 
There is none which an unrenewed 
mind is less willing to glance at, 
because here the very principle of 
alienation from God by which its own 
fallen nature is actuated, presents 
itself in full and most awful deve- 
lopement, as it will hereafter exist 
in the condemned of mankind* As 
devils are, so will lost sinners be. 
The charge of an inbred depravity 



263 

brought by revelation against every 
child of Adam revolts the unhumbled 
heart — which will consequently shrink 
from the picture of that depravity in 
its last and irremediable stage. More- 
over, until instructed out of the page 
of revelation, man is ever ignorant of 
the nature of sin, although his con- 
science will then respond to the divine 
declarations concerning it. He there- 
fore could not invent a character 
wherein guilt is made to consist in 
enmity against God. He could not, 
if he would— he durst not if he could 
— employ the pen which portrayed 
the state of lost angels. A moral 
impossibility makes the supposition of 
it absurd. 

The manner wherein is conveyed 
the information found in Scripture 
concerning the angelic orders is well 
worthy of consideration. Sublime 
and heavenly, or intensely awful, and 
characterized by a sacred and won- 



2<34 

drous originality, as are ail the images 
here presented to the mind, It is only 
incidentally, and sparingly, and with 
the utmost simplicity, that the subject 
is mentioned. There is an entire ab- 
sence of the parade of ostentatious 
discovery, of a studied design to 
astonish and to awe the mind. It is 
only from a few scattered passages 
that we learn any thing of the Angelic 
world; when these are collected and 
compared, all is known that revelation 
communicates on the subject. Yet 
how important is the knowledge con- 
veyed in so artless a manner! How 
vast a scene is thus opened to our 
view! The veil of things invisible is 
rent in twain, and another universe 
disclosed. Imprisoned in flesh and 
blood, as we are, and capable of 
employing observation on but the gros- 
ser half of creation, a telescope of 
discovery is put into our hands, 
whereby the spirits of eternity are 



265 

submitted to our cognizance. What 
reason could only surmise on grounds 
of probability is ascertained to be 
true — that the intellectual kingdom, 
like the inferior, has its ascending 
series of gradation, of which man is 
but the lowest link, connecting the 
whole immeasurable chain with that 
of visible nature, and standing be- 
tween two worlds, the common centre 
of the universe of matter and the 
universe of mind. It is divulged that 
angels, like mankind, were created 
responsible, and placed in a pro- 
bationary state, and the world of 
spirits like our own is divided into 
good and evil: that superior in- 
telligence, as in man compared with 
the brute, so in angels compared with 
man, is superior power: that as on 
earth, so in the invisible spheres, 
the great principle of order prevails, 
there too elevating its thrones, and 
establishing its dominions. A picture 
2a 



266 

is moreover presented of angelic 
holiness on the one hand, of spiritual 
wickedness on the other, which it is 
absurd to attribute to the imagination 
of man, that holiness being too like 
divine perfection, to be conceived by 
one who liked not to retain God in 
his knowledge — that wickedness being 
too like the final developement of his 
own, to be willingly portrayed or con- 
templated by him. We have here then 
a corroborative internal evidence of no 
trivial weight, that the Scriptures owe 
their origin not to human ingenuity, 
but to the inspiring wisdom of God. 

The Scriptures make known to us 
a connection subsisting between the 
history of angels and our own. 
The spirits of Heaven are interested 
in our salvation, and occupied in 
ministering to it. They sang together 
when the morning star began to shine, 
and shouted for joy over the new-born 
infancy of nature; but the scene which 



267 

attracts their enduring regard is the 
one transacted on Calvary— the theme 
which they desire, but even they are 
unable, to fathom, is human re- 
demption. The spirits of darkness, 
on the contrary, form a host banded 
together to accomplish the ruin of 
mankind. Our first fall is ascribed to 
their malignant influence, which has 
ever since been active in all our 
-calamities. With powers propor- 
tioned to the bad eminence they 
occupy, ever watchful and unwearied, 
yet restrained from interference with 
the voluntary agency of men, they 
urge on sinners to their moral suicide. 
Now they who disbelieve angelic being, 
cannot, it is evident, be among the 
persons on whose behalf angelic 
ministrations are employed. And if 
there be a master-piece of policy 
among the wiles of devils, it is when 
they effect their own concealment from 
their victim's eye — like some profound 



268 

intriguer who lays the train of a 
mighty explosion through half the 
political world, still keeping up, until 
his work be done, the delusion of 
ignorance under cover of which it is 
carried on. 

What a lustre is shed on the me- 
diation of the Son of God by the 
doctrine of angelic agency. It was 
not the contradiction of earth alone 
that our surety endured, but the 
malignity of hell also. And when he 
overcame, his right was established 
to send forth the inhabitants of Heaven 
on errands of beneficence to man. 
" He maketh his angels spirits and his 
ministers a flame of fire"; and by 
virtue of his completed redemption he 
bids them go and " minister to those 
who shall be heirs of salvation". 

; 



Off* >:, \ 'f '^v-jC* v ' '"* \ " '♦'>* jrrr 

SEBIOI X. 

i . : 

IS THERE NOTHING IN DEITY 
ANALOGOUS TO MENTAL AFFECTION 

IN MAN?' 

noiidi . . 
Genesis i. 27* 

"God created man in his own image ". 

Mere speculation in science is con- 
temptible, but in religion is dangerous. 
We feel a parental fondness for the 
offspring of our own fancy, which is 
apt to supplant the love of sober 
truth; particularly where, as in the 
instance of revealed truth, the natural 
bias of the heart comes in to aid the 
effect. Corruption rejoices within us, 
2a2 



270 

to find any excuse for foregoing the 
influence of the divine word, and 
readily assents to the substitution of 
some cold and barren theory in the 
place of sanctifying doctrine. But 
these reprehensions will not apply to 
an investigation of any point connected 
with the nature of Him " with whom 
we have to do," if it be conducted by 
the light of his Revelation. Sub- 
mitting to such a guide we cannot be 
led astray ; and the more we know 
of infinite Perfections, the more cause 
we shall have to love and to adore 
them. 

A subject like this can scarcely be 
expected to prove generally inter- 
esting except among serious minds. 
One whose importance is limited to 
the "three-score years and ten" will 
absorb the faculties of the wordly — 
the mention of some passing political 
event, or some fluctuation in the 
interests of trade, some local com- 



271 

mon-plaee or frivolous amusement, 
will command unwearied attention, 
when the attributes of Divinity are 
deemed unworthy of a thought ! An 
affecting proof of something wrong 
in the moral state of man, when we 
remember that what is thus the ob- 
ject of his scorn is a subject "higher 
than the highest" in importance and 
dignity. 

Some ancient philosophers imagined 
the First Cause to be nothing more 
than a kind of animal life pervading 
the body of the universe. Absurd 
and comfortless doctrine indeed, that 
placed before the worshipper a vast 
vacuity wherein all his petitions for 
superior aid must be swallowed up 
unheard for ever, and represented the 
fountain of all intelligence as itself 
destitute of it ! When the Supreme 
Being is described as possessing all 
intelligence, purity, and power, but 
devoid of every thing analogous to 



272 

mental affection in man, an error not 
altogether dissimilar from the fore- 
going, seems presented to our con- 
templation. Instead of a God in some 
degree comprehensible in his character, 
although not in the mode of his eoe- 
istenee> and encouraging access by all 
that he has revealed of himself, we 
behold afar off a cold abstraction 
veiled in impenetrable obscurity, and 
sending forth a repulsive influence on 
our approach to the Sanctuary! Free 
from the passions of mortality the 
High and Holy One infallibly must 
be— yet is there in his nature no re- 
semblance of all that was sublime in 
the original nature of man, but on the 
scale of infinity? The opinion we 
have questioned is indeed boasted as 
the offspring of profound reflection, 
and emphatically styled "the phi- 
losophical notion of the deity." Its 
exclusive consistency with the Scrip- 
tures is said to be borne out by that 



273 

just and figurative interpretation sug- 
gested by a sound judgment and the 
analogy of Revelation. These pre- 
tensions, we venture to affirm, are 
more plausible than well-founded; 
and the verdict of Scripture and of 
genuine philosophy, if duly ascertained, 
would be found on the other side, 

I. The passage that has been 
selected as the occasion of the present 
discourse intimates a wondrous fact, 
worthy of our deep attention, as 
illustrating the nature of God, no less 
than unfolding the original dignity of 
man. In the latter light alone, it has 
been generally viewed— we propose 
to consider it at present in the former. 
We are given to understand that 
between the nature of man, as first 
created, and the Creator Himself, 
there existed resemblance. If then 
it be allowable, on the ground of this 
fact, to argue from what is known, 
in the divine nature to what is in- 



2/4 

vestigated in the original nature of 
man, is it not equally allowable, on 
the same ground, to argue from what 
may be known of the original nature 
of man to what is investigated in the 
divine ? Whatever force there is in 
the argument in one case, there is the 
same in the other; for the principle of 
it is in either case the same, namely, 
that the resemblance intimated having 
necessarily existed on either side, if 
we know a point compared on the one 
side we may infer a corresponding 
point on the other. It is obvious that 
it is only with respect to the points of 
declared resemblance that the argu- 
ment, in whichever way applied, has 
any force at all. We cannot infer, on 
the one hand, from any divine attribute 
a corresponding quality in original 
human nature, unless that attribute be 
one among the points of declared 
resemblance; we cannot infer, on the 
other hand, from any quality known 



275 

to have existed in our original nature^ 
a corresponding attribute of the 
divine, unless that quality also be 
included among them. We cannot, 
for instance, argue from corporeal 
qualities in man, to corporeal in the 
deity; for both reason and revelation 
exclude the supposition that a re- 
semblance in that respect can he 
intimated by the passage under con- 
sideration. Neither can we argue, for 
a similar reason, from any attribute 
of the deity to a corresponding quality 
in our original nature, if it be such a 
one as our nature is intrinsically 
incapable of; as, for example, Om- 
nipresence. The declared resemblance, 
according to some interpreters of the 
divine oracles, is confined to the 
single feature of moral character, 
while, according to others, mental 
character in general, and external 
circumstance, are in some degree 
included. That more than moral 



276 

character is included among the 
features of resemblance would ap- 
pear from the context of our pas- 
sage, where the dominion over other 
creatures of this earth assigned to man 
seems at least indirectly represented as 
an image of the divine sovereignty; 
and as such in fact it is expressly con- 
sidered in the comment of an inspired 
apostle on another portion of the 
Old Testament.* Why ,. then, should 
mental character in general be ex- 
cluded — especially when we know 
that there exists in the divine nature 
something analogous to understanding 
in man, so far as that which is infinite 
can bear analogy to that which is 
finite? May there not also be some- 
what in deity so far and no farther 
analogous to mental affection in man, 
as the omniscient intuition of deity, 
with all things ever present in its field 

* Hebrews 2. 



277 

of vision, can be said to bear analogy 
to human intelligence? " God created 
man in his own image." This language 
is unqualified except by the nature of 
the case, and (unless we can sup- 
pose the language of inspiration so 
carelessly penned as to express, to 
our apprehension for whose benefit it 
was intended, more than it really 
means) may be allowed to imply a 
resemblance in all possible points of 
comparison. Here it may be observed 
that although the principle of the 
argument is the same, and in itself 
equally strong, whether we argue, 
on the ground of the revealed re- 
semblance, from original human nature 
to the divine, or from the divine to 
original human nature, yet the argu- 
ment in the former application of it 
derives additional force from a dis- 
tinct consideration. If we can argue, 
on such ground, with the strongest 
probability, that of every excellence 
2b 



278 

of which his nature is intrinsically 
capable, a measure, proportioned to 
the place assigned him in the scale of 
being, resided in man before the fall 
— on the same ground we can argue 
with certainty that every abstract 
excellence possessed by man before 
the fall has its infinite counterpart in 
the divine Being — because we know 
that to Him every possible excellence 
belongs. We say abstract excellence; 
because human excellence, as modified 
by the station of man, and relative 
to the obligations under which he was 
placed, can obviously have no counter- 
part in the Divine Being, who thrones 
above all eminence, and owns no 
obligation but what originate in his 
own perfections. It may be thought 
that when a resemblance is intimated 
between our original nature and the 
divine, mental affection cannot, from 
the nature of the case, be an included 
point of comparison, as implying 



279 

Imperfection and therefore impossible 
in God. Mental affection in man, 
even as he came from the hands of his 
Creator, unquestionably involved in it 
the imperfection of a creature, nor 
can any thing strictly designable by 
that name have place in the divine 
nature — all for which we argue is the 
existence in the divine nature of some- 
thing analogous to mental affection, 
free, of necessity, from whatever in 
that quality is characteristic of a 
finite being. It may be thought, 
moreover, that mental affection is not 
merely allied to imperfection in a 
creature, but necessarily involves im- 
perfection, so that nothing at all 
analogous to it can belong to a perfect 
Being. As existing in human nature 
it must indeed involve imperfection 
— but intelligence, as existing in hu- 
man nature, must involve imperfection 
too, and therefore, strictly speaking 
we may affirm, can have no place in 



280 

Deity, whose thoughts, in this respect 
as in every other, are not as our 
thoughts— whose mind pursues not 
truth from link to link like ours, but 
grasps the whole infinite chain at 
once and for ever. Yet none deny 
that there is in Deity somewhat 
analogous to intelligence in man. If 
then the principle of the objection 
does not hold in the one instance, why 
should it be relied on in the other? 
If notwithstanding that intelligence, 
as existing in human nature, involves 
imperfection, there be somewhat 
analogous to it in the nature of Deity 
— why may not it be that although 
mental affection as existing in human 
nature involves imperfection some- 
thing analogous to it also may belong 
to Deity? The objection anticipated 
we propose more fully to answer under 
a subsequent head of this discourse. 

2. If our first progenitor was 
formed in the image of God, it will be 



281 

admitted by those for whom the pre- 
sent subject was selected, that "one 
other man" was in a far loftier sense 
"the express image of His person." 
Jesus Christ is declared to- have been 
"God manifest in the flesh." It is 
true that the characteristics of his 
humanity are not to be confounded 
with those of his divinity; every 
quality of the one does not necessarily 
mirror some attribute of the other. 
It is true that possessing, as man, 
every feature essential to original 
human nature, he must have possessed 
some for which no counterpart existed 
in his divine nature ; and as we do not 
infer, because he had a corporeal form, 
that the divinity is corporeal too, 
neither do we infer, because he was 
moved with indignation, wept with 
compassion, and melted in tenderness, 
that those affections literally belong 
to the divine nature. But the fact of 
his exhibiting those affections was 
2b2 



282 

unquestionably calculated to convey, 
to those who saw in him the Father 
manifested, a very natural impression 
that something analogous to them 
ddes belong to the divine nature. And 
if such an impression derogated from 
the divine majesty, it is remarkable 
that our Lord never evinced any care 
to guard against it, or to remove it. 
His performance of works " that none 
other did," and his utterance of 
words such as "never man spake," 
as it brought a sensible manifestation 
of deity before those who witnessed 
and heard them, was calculated to 
convey to their unrefined intelligence 
the idea of a bodily nature belong- 
ing essentially to God— accordingly 
against such a misconception he se- 
dulously guarded, frequently incul- 
cating the doctrine that " God is a 
Spirit." Why did not he employ 
similar precaution lest they should 
imagine something analogous to men- 



283 

tal affection in the Godhead, because 
its existence was manifest in him, if 
such an imagination be really injurious 
to the divine honour? 

3. That it is not so, we believe, 
admits of proof. A moral nature is 
evidently attributed in Scripture to 
the divine Being. The greater portion 
of it directly, and almost every page 
either directly or indirectly, represents 
Him as affixing his approval to all 
that is just and virtuous, and his re- 
probation to the contrary. He is not 
merely represented as acting after a 
manner in itself tending to promote 
happiness and virtue in his creation, 
but the love of all excellence is at- 
tributed to Him. In the whole history 
of nominal religion, we are not aware 
that any sect appears to have existed 
which denied to the Deity a moral 
nature. It is not unworthy of being 
observed in this place that a celebrated 
writer on Natural Theology, in ar- 



284 

guing for the divine goodness, has 
partly adopted the method of first 
disproving malignity in God, ap- 
pearing to trust that when he had 
done this he had established his own 
point— assuming tacitly, as universally 
conceded, that a moral nature of some 
kind must belong to God. Indeed so 
universally is it conceded, that even 
deists have scarcely ever questioned 
it. Now the possession of a moral 
nature demonstrably involves the pos- 
session of mental affection, or of 
something analogous to it. The 
perception of moral truth belongs to 
intelligence, but the love of it is 
clearly the exercise of a distinct 
power. If we suppose human in- 
telligence infinitely expanded, and 
rendered capable of embracing in one 
view all objects of thought, while 
mental affection is severed from its 
present connection with it, and nothing 
analogous is substituted, we have no- 



285 

thing whereby to account for the love 
of moral truth ; and without a ca- 
pability of this, there is no moral 
nature. Any person who consults his 
own consciousness for a moment will 
be assured that to perceive and to love 
truth are completely distinct. If we 
had not some capacity distinct from 
intelligence, we might be able to per- 
ceive truth, but should be incapable of 
loving it — and to know that, if so con- 
stituted, we should be still incapable 
of loving it, although human intelli- 
gence were expanded into divine, is to 
know that there is in Deity, from 
whose being the love of moral truth 
is admitted to be inseparable, some- 
thing analogous to mental affection in 
man.* 

* It is evident that, whatever view be taken of 
the nature of moral agency, there can be no moral, 
without voluntary, agency-— and the latter implies a 
choice, and choice implies a preference or love of 
of what is chosen. The above argument is therefore 



286 

4. The Scriptures attribute perfect 
happiness to the Divine Being no less 
than perfect holiness. He is repre- 
sented as beholding the excellency of 
his works, and rejoicing over them. 
The very fullness of joy is declared to 
emanate from his presence ; and such 
language imports that joy in its full- 
ness is inherent in Him. The ad- 
mission of this attribute seems equally 
general with that of his moral nature 
—and it will uphold an argument for 
establishing the point we maintain, 
still stronger, perhaps, than what we 
endeavoured to raise on the latter ad- 
mission. If it be inconceivable how 
a moral nature can belong to Deity, 
unassociated with any thing analogous 
to mental affection in man, it seems to 
be, if possible, still more inconceivable 
how happiness, even in Deity, can 

independent of the question concerning the nature 
of moral agency, and is equally valid whether 
original moral feeling be admitted, or denied. 



287 

exist without it. The distinction be- 
tween intelligence and happiness ap- 
pears, if possible, plainer still than 
the distinction between intellectual 
and moral nature. To understand 
our condition is one thing ; to rejoice 
in the consciousness of it is another — 
each involves the employment of a 
distinct capacity. If we suppose in- 
telligence infinitely augmented, it will 
no more account for the fact of enjoy- 
ment than for the existence of a moral 
nature. To account for either we 
must alike suppose the existence of 
mental affection , or of some capacity 
analogous to it. It follows that such 
capacity must belong to the divine 
nature, if it be conceded, as it readily 
■will be, that the author of all blessed- 
ness is Himself, in every sense, -' the 
Blessed,' concentrating in his own 
eternity the essence of that joy which 
He diffuses through the universe of 
the just. It is scarcely necessary to 



288 

observe that in thus considering in- 
telligence as distinct from moral feel- 
ing and from the capacity of hap- 
piness, we do not suppose an actual, 
or even possible, existence of the first, 
in any being, without the coexistence 
of the other two. Although distinct 
in character we believe them insepar- 
able in fact. The proof of this, how- 
ever, if it were within our reach, 
would be foreign from the subject 
under consideration. 

5. In attempting to draw a more 
direct argument from the Scriptures 
in favor of the doctrine at present 
maintained, we are sensible that much 
caution ought to be used. When in 
Scripture language the Divine Being 
is described as rejoicing in his works, 
as pitying them that fear Him, we are 
not, of course, to imagine that the 
very same affections are attributed to 
Him which those expressions denote 
in application to man. Acknowledging 



289 

such language to be figurative, we 
yet seem bound by propriety of inter- 
pretation, (since figurative language 
implies comparison), to explain it as 
attributing to the divine nature some- 
what admitting of analogy with the 
human affections literally denoted by 
it. If it be supposed that the com- 
parison implied is not between certain 
attributes of deity and affections of 
human nature, but between certain 
actions of deity and human actions 
that result from the influence of those 
affections — if the language adduced 
be regarded as merely expressing that 
God acts as if he rejoiced in his works, 
as if he pitied them that fear him, the 
interpretation can scarcely be con- 
sidered natural. Let the same mode 
of interpretation be applied to those 
passages which affirm the moral attri- 
butes of God, and its questionable 
character will appear in a stronger 
light, the Scriptures being then made 
2c 



290 

to deny a moral nature to God al- 
together, and to represent him as 
merely acting as if he were just and 
merciful, while in fact he is incapable 
of being either. Who can venture 
to explain those sublime and affecting 
words * " God is love," as merely in- 
dicating that the divine actions re- 
semble the outflowings of love, while 
love itself has no being in the divine 
mind ? Is it less absurd than it would 
be to explain that burden of angelic 
praise, "holy, holy, holy, is the Lord," 
as merely intimating that the divine 
actions resemble the effects of holiness, 
while of holiness itself the Divine 
nature is incapable? It will be re- 
membered, indeed, that in Scripture 
language God is also spoken of as the 
subject of repentance and grief, feel- 
ings of the human mind to which it 
seems that nothing in the Divine can 
be imagined to bear any analogy. 
Of repentance literally, as implying a 



291 

change of design, we acknowledge 
the divine mind incapable ; and when 
he is said in Scripture to repent, the 
expression can only intimate figu- 
ratively the Divine manifestation of a 
design before concealed. Repentance, 
applied to man, involves a sense of 
displeasure whose object is in some 
degree himself, and of this the Deity 
is obviously incapable ; but not in- 
capable (we trust it has been proved) 
of somewhat analogous to displeasure, 
whose object is the criminality of his 
creatures, and whose existence may 
be a part of that complex state which 
the word repentance is employed to 
denote. When the Divine Spirit is 
spoken of as grieved with the sins of 
his people, why may not we explain 
such language as intimating the ex- 
istence in the Divine mind of some- 
what analogous to that blending of 
love for the offender and displeasure 
against his offence, which the tender 



292 

and faithful mind of an earthly parent 
may experience? Of this too we 
trust it has appeared that Deity may 
be with reason believed capable, 
although incapable of what grief 
denotes in the ordinary application 
of the term to human experience. 
We do contend that the language of 
Scripture, illustrative of this subject 
in general, is too expressive to be 
justifiably shorne of more than half 
its force— or if it might be so treated, 
we contend that the same mode of 
interpretation, applied to other por- 
tions of the sacred Volume, would 
nullify all that it reveals of the moral 
nature of God. It may possibly be 
urged, on the other hand, that the 
mode of interpretation required by the 
doctrine which we maintain, if applied 
to certain passages of Scripture, will 
be productive of equal absurdity, 
making somewhat analogous to the 
" eye" and M arm" of man a constituent 



293 

portion of the Divine existence, be- 
cause such words are figuratively ap- 
plied to Deity. It certainly does fol- 
low from the principle we have insisted 
on, that something capable of com- 
parison with those objects of sense 
must belong to Deity — but what may 
be compared with material substances 
is not necessarily material; and "the 
eye of the Lord," and " the arm of the 
Lord" may, consistently with our prin- 
ciple, be expounded of the divine om- 
niscience and omnipotence. 

II. Having thus endeavoured to 
state and defend some arguments in 
favor of the view of this subject which 
we have been led to prefer, it remains 
to anticipate and reply to certain ob- 
jections that may be brought against 
it — objections plausible, perhaps, in 
appearance, but destitute, as we 
apprehend, of any real weight. 

The objection that maybe advanced 
on the ground that the present doc- 
2c2 



294 

trine represents the divine nature as 
allied to imperfection has already been 
adverted to. This objection will be 
fully obviated if we discover that the 
imperfection with which mental af- 
fection is connected in man, does not 
belong essentially to mental affection 
itself, but arises merely out of the 
finite nature of humanity. The af- 
fections of the human mind are acted 
on by causes external to itself, and not 
controllable at its pleasure — so that 
our internal condition is never self- 
established and independent. We 
do not now refer to that voluntary and 
idolatrous dependence on circumstance 
for enjoyment which belongs to our 
fallen nature, but to that liability to 
the influence of external causes in 
putting our affections into exercise 
which we experience as creatures, 
encircled with objects independent of 
us, and formed to operate on our 
affections. Now it is manifest that 



295 
supposing there be in Deity something 
analogous to mental affection in man, 
we must admit the divine nature to be 
free from the influence of this cause 
which connects imperfection with that 
department of the human mind ; there 
is nothing external to Deity in- 
dependent of him, nor can any thing 
happen in all the universe, and 
throughout eternity, which his om- 
niscience did not foreknow when His 
omnipotence first put forth creative 
power — so that no emotion can be 
originated in the Divine Mind by any 
thing external to itself. That which 
Deity everlastingly loves is goodness 
in all its forms, ever present to his 
view — that which He everlastingly 
hates is evil under every aspect, never 
hidden from his eye. 

As man is encircled by objects 
independent of him, and formed to 
operate on his affections, and those 
objects are presented in succession, 



296 
and can only thus be regarded by him, 
successive affections pass through his 
mind ; where (as in his bodily nature) 
he is the subject of continual change. 
This source of imperfection belongs 
to him as a creature, but can have no 
place in the Creator. All things are 
ever present in the great panorama 
of his view, and, with whatever mind 
he contemplates them, he must ever 
contemplate them with the same. He 
can behold at once the wondrous 
whole, and every minutest one of its 
innumerable component parts, eter- 
nally regarding each with righteous 
complacence, or with righteous re- 
probation. There can, therefore, be 
nothing in Deity resembling the suc- 
cession of affections in man, and there- 
fore no source of imperfection origi- 
nating in it, although we attribute to 
Deity somewhat analogous to mental 
affection in man. 

Such are the sources of imper- 



297 

fection connected with affection in 
created minds — their affections are 
influenced from without, and are suc- 
cessive; but these are circumstances 
which cannot be proved essential to 
the existence of affection, somewhat 
analogous to which may therefore be 
conceived as belonging to Deity with- 
out any alliance with imperfection. 
The word affection, like the word pas- 
sion, ordinarily carries our thoughts 
to an affecting cause external to the 
mind affected, and in this way affec- 
tion in every creature must indeed 
primarily originate — so that in strict 
language the Deity is without pas- 
sions or affections. We have only 
maintained the existence in the Divine 
nature of somewhat yet undesignated 
in human language, except by the 
medium of comparison, and which 
bears all the analogy to affection in 
the human mind, that what is in- 
finite, unchanging, and perfect, can 



298 

bear to what is finite, fleeting, and 
imperfect. 

The present subject is not devoid 
of practical importance. We love 
God because He first loved us. It is 
the conviction of his love to us that 
awakens our love to Him. But to 
persuade us that God is a cold Intel- 
ligence, in whom the reality of love 
has and can have no being, would be 
to remove the fire from his altar with 
which alone one heavenly affection 
can be kindled in the human mind. 
It would be to throw a chilling shade 
over that soul-touching record, " God 
so loved the world that he gave his 
only-begotten Son, that whosoever 
believeth in Him might not perish, 
but have everlasting life." It would 
be to take away all that moves the 
heart from the page of inspiration, 
and leave it a dead letter. Such is 
the tendency of a boasted but un- 
sound theology, which, as it assumes 



299 

the ground of general argument, it is 
necessary to meet on the same ground, 
in endeavouring to expose its real 
character to reflecting minds. 

lo noli 

I oi syoI 
Asi si bo9 tei 

>99ti9gil 

sd Mxjow ( ^£ii9d on avari nm baa . 







doMw 








END OF THE SERMONS. 


' 




srfj fee 






.I'-Ay'l, •'. . '.", '.: 





edaheq 
Muof 

Sffl 89VOO 



-: t'- i 



ESSAY 



MERITS 



MODERN FICTION,. 



To condemn without examination is un- 
worthy of reason, but to approve without 
reflection is equally so. While some persons 
contemplate the idea of fiction with a kind 
of nervous abhorrence, others indulge as 
unfounded a prejudice in its favor. Even 
among persons of genuine piety we occasion- 
ally meet an instance of the latter sort. It 
may, indeed, be admitted, that the evil of 
fiction is in the abuse of it ; but to distinguish 
this from the use of it, is an important matter, 
not always settled as it ought to be by per- 
sons whose principles are right. When a 
plain Christian hears it announced that a 
method has at length been discovered of 
2 D 



302 

separating romance altogether from the moral 
poison of which it used to be the vehicle,, 
without depriving it of its captivating in- 
terest, he is astonished, and, perhaps, de- 
lighted, with the news. He takes up an 
alleged example of this wonderful achieve- 
ment, and is perplexed at finding an unhappy 
and deteriorative influence emanating from 
it upon his mind. Yet the book may differ 
widely from the romances of a former 
school. It may be free from grosser pollu- 
tions, and wear, altogether, a more sober and 
imposing air. Still he feels it is no book for 
him. The very instinct of piety admonishes 
him of this. He is conscious, while reading, 
that he breathes in an element uncongenial 
with religion. But he is thus compelled to 
disapprove, what others high in his opinion 
have perhaps allowed and sanctioned, while 
at the same time he is unable to point 
out exactly where the evil lies of which he is 
instinctively sensible. In such a state of 
mind he may, himself, resolutely renounce a 
line of reading which he finds injurious, but 
he can scarcely bear a reasonable testimony 
against it in the case of others ; and the con- 
sciousness of this, will not, improbably, seal 



303 

his lips. It is surely, then, of importance to 
detect and expose the evil inherent in the 
works alluded to, if it really exist. Before 
attempting this, however, we shall make some 
remarks on fiction in general. 

1. Between mere fiction and matter of 
fact there is one important difference ; the 
former principally addresses the imagination, 
and the latter the understanding. From a 
matter of fact ascertained we are naturally 
disposed to draw inferences more or less, 
which vary according to our mental ability 
and principles; but from a fiction we draw 
none, simply because it is a fiction. When 
we peruse the pages of history, we infer from 
recorded events the wisdom and utility of 
certain public measures, the mischief and ab- 
surdity of the contrary ; while we observe that 
human welfare has been uniformly augmented 
by the one, and diminished by the other. 
When we study the biographic page, we infer, 
in like manner, the hollowness and deformity 
of certain personal qualities, the worth and 
loveliness of the opposite, observing the ac- 
tual malignant workings of the one, and 
beneficent effects of the other. But a fic- 
titious history, or a fictitious memoir, can 



304 

never instruct us in this manner ; for it would 
be absurd to argue from the regions of imagi- 
nation to the scenes of real life, and infer 
from events and incidents painted on a 
fabulous page, that the principles and qualities 
to which they are attributed will be pro- 
ductive of similar effects on the substantial 
soil of the world. While fact, therefore, 
gives exercise to the understanding, fiction of 
itself rather excites the imagination. It is 
true that different persons will often reason 
very differently about the same fact, both in 
the extent of their reasonings, and the nature 
of their conclusions. Many will reason per- 
versely, and arrive at conclusions the opposite 
of those to which unbiassed reflection would 
have led ; many will go no farther than those 
intuitive inferences which, by the constitution 
of our minds, we tacitly and involuntarily 
make. All men cannot philosophize over a 
narrative ; but every man who thinks at all 
will make some mental comment upon it, how- 
ever meagre it may be. It is this habit 
whereby all the knowledge of ordinary life 
is accumulated. We observe, we experience ; 
and we reason on, or generalize, what we 
meet. Without this, indeed, man would 



305 

cease to be a rational being. But amid the 
airy scenes of fiction we seldom find such a 
process passing within. There, for the most 
part, the understanding, unoccupied, and re- 
serving itself for a worthier field, sinks into 
temporary lethargy ; while imagination, all 
awake, is wrought up to a pleasing delirium. 
Need it here be insisted on that the former is 
the more noble faculty, and the more important 
to exercise — that it is the grand medium by 
which truth is imbibed, and consequently its 
influence experienced, while the latter by its 
perilous fascinatioi^ too often bewilders the 
judgment, and leads it into the embrace of 
error, and therefore its prevalent domination 
is ever to be guarded against ? 

When fiction closely resembles the scenes 
of real life, it may seem to constitute an ex- 
ception to the truth of the foregoing ob- 
servations; which, however, even in such a 
case apply with considerable force. No man 
oan reason from fiction as he will reason from 
fact. However imaginary events may re- 
semble real, the never-absent consciousness 
that they are imaginary will keep back the 
mind from building one serious conclusion 
upon them. Fiction of this nature may some- 
2d2 



306 

times instruct, as an echo of lessons already 
inculcated by fact ; but then it is mere fiction 
no longer; and the instruction is really derived 
not from the fiction itself, but from the pre- 
vious observation and experience of life 
which it brings to recollection. 

There is a more solid exception to what has 
been advanced on the nature of fiction in 
general — when emblematic imagery is em- 
ployed to represent truth, so as to clothe in 
gold, yet still leave visible, a thread of know- 
ledge underneath. In this case, while the 
imagination is interested, the understanding 
is exercised; for, through all the ornaments 
with which it is invested, still truth is the ob- 
ject of the mind's attention. Hence allegory 
has been profitably employed by the wise of 
every age, and admitted on the page of in- 
spiration itself. Its use, even when intended 
to recommend sound doctrine, will evidently 
depend on the wisdom with which it is formed. 
If so formed as that attention is made prin- 
cipally to rest on the emblems composing it, 
the imagination will be most occupied, and 
little or no benefit result ; but if so formed as 
that attention is chiefly drawn to the truth 
which it adorns, the understanding will be 



307 

most occupied, and the end of allegory at- 
tained. Far-fetched and ingenious com- 
parisons will destroy this ; beautiful and fa- 
miliar ones will promote it. Of the allegorical 
style we have a perfect example in the 
parables of Scripture. Familiar enough to 
reach the apprehension of every class of 
mankind, and beautiful enough to rivet them- 
selves on the memory of all ages, they charm 
the imagination without exciting it, and arrest 
the understanding while they touch the heart. 
The reading of the Lost Sheep, the Prodigal 
Son, the Rich Man and Lazarus, is still im- 
pressive in an audience where every individual 
has known them from a child. Among un- 
inspired compositions the well-known Pilgrim 
of Bunyan has ever been justly accounted the 
happiest example of allegory. Far from re- 
gretting with a celebrated author * the ex- 
pressive simplicity of its language, we venture 
to consider it an essential beauty. One de- 
fect there may be — the thread of the allegory 
is perhaps too often, and too long, broken 
in the midst by an undisguised discussion ; 
but what work of man is perfect J Uniting 

* Pope. 



308 

with a fascinating variety of striking yet fa- 
miliar emblems an experimental depth of 
religious knowledge, the "Pilgrim's Progress" 
alike wins the attention of every class and 
age ; amusing childhood, edifying grey-haired 
piety, and alluring the enemy of religion to a 
subject which in any other form he puts 
away. 

2. From these remarks on fiction itself 
we proceed to consider the usual tendency of 
its specimens, especially in modern literature. 
Of the common novel and romance little need 
be said, as their pernicious character is uni- 
versally admitted by religious persons. They 
are defective in every point ; they offend 
against every rule. They present a picture 
but faintly resembling human life ; and even 
where the copy is most exact, it consists of 
a combination of scenes calculated to excite 
some foul or malignant passion, while the cold 
moral at the end by which this is not quenched, 
inculcates, if it inculcates any thing, only 
the fatal principle of self-righteous pride. 
The romance of the present age is said to be 
something wholly different — to display a faith- 
ful transcript of society and manners, only 
made more attractive by the splendour of 



309 

poetical colouring ; to be unsullied with 
scenes of impure levity; and, if not cha- 
racterized by a decidedly religious or even 
moral tendency, to insinuate, at least, in their 
most pleasing form, important topographical 
and historical knowledge, Does it follow, 
supposing all this to be true, that works of 
this nature may be safely and consistently ad- 
mitted to the perusal of a serious mind ? 
This is the question now to be examined. 

A romance may present a combination 
of scenes, each of which has actually had its 
counterpart in real life, and yet not on this 
account afford beneficial instruction even in- 
dependently of the circumstance that all these 
scenes, as combined, constitute a fiction, and 
cannot give rise to the reasonings which we 
naturally build on fact. Even a narrative, in 
some sense true, may be barren of such in- 
struction, although not devoid of interest. A 
selection of circumstances may be made, each 
of which is singly true, while combined they 
insinuate an erroneous lesson. Circumstances 
may be omitted, which, if known, would place 
the whole narrative in a different light, and 
exhibit more justly the issue of human con- 
duct. Or a narrative may even be strictly 



310 

true, so far as it extends, and yet lie open 
to a similar objection ; the writer may stop 
at a point where the final result is not de- 
veloped, and where events appear to issue in 
a way directly opposite to it. A romance, 
while resembling real life, may present its 
scenes in a similar manner — combined as they 
never are combined, or ended as they never 
end — and thus, with all its boasted sobriety, 
may leave a false and fatal impression, if it 
leaves any at all. 

But a narrative of facts, carried on and 
concluded with the utmost fidelity of relation, 
may not always afford of itself, a useful lesson. 
Divine Providence does not in this world 
give retributive justice her full display. The 
reign of mercy is now ; the reign of justice 
is to come. An account of prosperous 
wickedness may therefore be faithfully true ; 
but, considered in isolated singleness, will 
evidently convey a most pernicious impression 
to an unenlightened or unstable mind. Sup- 
posing, therefore, that romance be in every 
respect a faithful picture of human life, if in- 
deed it can be this, and be romance — (which 
is to suppose the utmost of its sobriety) it may 
still be worse than useless. It is, indeed, in 



311 

this respect, less dangerous than a narrative 
of facts, imperfect or otherwise, which is cal- 
culated to convey a false lesson when con- 
sidered alone ; for however imagination may 
be unfavourably excited by its ideal scenes, 
the understanding, at least, will draw from 
them no waking inference. If it be asked, 
why object to a story whose counterpart has 
actually been forced on observation ; why 
must moral or religious instruction be ap- 
pended to it, in order to correct its evil ten- 
dency, when none is appended in real life — 
we reply, that in real life such instances are 
beheld in connection with the general course 
of Providence, whose lessons on the whole 
are decidedly in favour of piety and virtue; 
but, in such books as we alluded to, they are 
presented without any counteracting associ- 
ation. The general course of Providence 
may indeed be remembered by the reader; 
but few readers will remember it with effect, 
while the exciting story engrosses attention* 
Even history and biography, unaccompanied 
by sound instruction, teach a perverted lesson 
to the majority of their students ; for depraved 
human nature comes to the perusal, pre- 
disposed to abuse it : even they are known to 



312 

excite injuriously the affections of the carnal 
heart, where religion has not provided her 
antidote, and converted the poison into food. 
Oh ! what a wide field lies open, in these 
departments of knowledge, for the efforts of 
future genius and learning, sanctified by the 
love of eternal truth. 

The romances of this day teach history and 
topography — be it so — but can such things 
indemnify a christian for the total absence of 
his own views and principles — of all that can 
minister to his purity or his peace? And 
after all, what student will trust in the literary 
information of a romance, when he knows it 
to be so mingled with legend, that a previous 
acquaintance with the subject is requisite for 
disentangling it ? 

But is the total absence of every tiling 
christian the only evil with which the fictions 
of this vaunted school may be chargeable? 
Let us examine the moral delicacy attributed 
to them. They may be free from undis- 
guised obscenity— but is this all that is ne- 
cessary to guard a youthful heart from con- 
tamination ? The picture most calculated to 
kindle unhallowed ardors there, is the one 
which is drawn with the softest colouring. 



313 

When the tender hues of sentimentality are 
thrown over the grossness of sensual passion, it 
is no longer recognized, except by those who 
have their powers well exercised to discern 
between good and evil. Sensuality unmasked 
will shock and alarm those whom the very same 
sensuality in disguise will deceive and cap- 
tivate. They who know the susceptibility 
of an early age will feel the vital importance 
of guarding it from every approach of such a 
foe. The glowing description even of legi- 
timate courtship is quite enough to awaken 
a fever in a young imagination, and infuse a 
plague into an inexperienced heart. In pro- 
portion as we are imbued with a holier taste, 
and confirmed in the principles of serious 
religion, all such reading will be an object of 
disgust. It can only be indulged where there ex- 
isted a previous, although perhaps unsuspected, 
disposition for it ; and it cannot be indulged 
in that case without consequences hurtful to 
the interests of the mind. 

Let us now admit a supposition which to 
little extent indeed will be found realized 
— that certain of the works in question are 
free from all tendency to excite sensual feel- 
ing; does it follow that they are wholly un- 
2 E 



314 

objectionable I Many, without reflection, will 
imagine it does. Provided all be right on 
this point, it never occurs to them that all 
may be wrong on another, of equal, or even 
superior, importance. They have scarcely 
any idea of moral evil beyond its grosser 
forms. Vice and sin are with them almost 
interchangeable terms. This is a capital 
error — and it is astonishing in how great a 
degree it prevails, even among persons not 
ignorant of the Bible. TJiere we learn there 
are other sins beside those of the flesh, and 
sins that look fouler in the view of divine 
purity. The first and greatest commandment 
of God must be that which more immediately 
respects our duty to Him, and the greatest 
sin must be that by which this commandment 
is directly violated. The service which God 
requires is one wherein the mind is the prin- 
cipal agent ; and when its affections and 
powers are engrossed by another object, our 
duty to Him is doubtless violated more directly 
than by the mere indulgence of sensual vice. 
The sins of the mind are moreover the moving 
springs of all other criminality. When God 
is not exalted within, but a rival reigns on 
his throne, the passions are destitute of their 



315 

only effectual regulation. Moral anarchy 
must prevail among them, ere moral turpitude 
can break into developement. Every tan- 
gible abomination had its beginning in 
thoughts over which God was not presiding. 
AH mental sin does not indeed amount to 
worshipping and serving the creature more 
than the Creator, but many do — and no sins 
of the flesh can of themselves amount to it. 
There are, then, not only sins of the mind 
distinct from all gross pollution, but among 
them the worst of sin is found. When works 
of fiction foster these, can they for a moment 
be deemed unobjectionable ? And may not 
these, no less than sins of the flesh, be dis- 
guised by a gorgeous colouring, until they 
delude and fascinate even persons who would 
abhor them in their naked deformity ? 

Revenge is demonstrably sin. It cannot 
co-exist in the same mind with the universal 
benevolence which every man owes to the 
human race; and were its fiend-like workings 
uncontrolled, it would propagate its dreadful 
similitude from breast to breast, until it had 
rendered earth a hell. It takes the solemn 
affair of retribution, not only out of the 
hands of civil authority, but out of His to 



316 

whom it supremely belongs. The man who 
stands armed, and prepared at all points, to 
resent every affront and punish every wrong, 
has usurped the prerogative of the Almighty. 
Even by the moralists of heathenism revenge 
was accounted a vice, although among the 
modern enemies of religion it has had its ad- 
vocates. Writing for christians, we need 
not reply to their sophistry. With all who 
believe the Bible the evil of revenge is an 
axiom. What if this very abomination be 
exhibited in an amiable disguise, in the 
works under consideration, and so enveloped 
in images of grandeur and pathetic interest, 
as to become insensibly associated with them 
in the thoughts of the reader, until he begins 
unaware to regard revenge as something 
grand and interesting too? It may be dig- 
nified with well-sounding appellations, and 
called honorable feeling, generous pride— but 
names cannot change the nature of the thing, 
however they may contribute to conceal it 
from an unsuspecting mind. Ambition is 
equally known to be sin, and is of darker hue, 
if possible, even than revenge. While revenge 
is rather a propensity called forth by circum- 
stance, ambition is a fixed and governing 



317 

principle ; the one, like a volcano, bursts at 
intervals, into explosion— the other, like the 
burning lake, sends up its flame for ever. 
Ambition is self-idolatry bent on self-exalta- 
tion. Its votary contemplates his own 
image habitually with supreme admiration, 
and practically transfers on himself the ho- 
mage that belongs to Divine Excellence. 
That place which the Eternal occupies in the 
mind of an angel, an ambitious man occupies 
in his own. Now ambition is not only ca- 
pable, like revenge, of being disguised and 
rendered interesting, by a designed associa- 
tion with images of grandeur and beauty; 
but in its deeper intensity, such as romance 
delights in portraying, it is for the most part 
combined by nature with the grand and the 
beautiful of intellectual character; for the 
consciousness of possessing these, and in 
them the means of probable advancement, 
will naturally animate the desire of attaining 
it. Hence to render ambition attractive to 
our fallen nature is a task of peculiar facility. 
What if it has been but too well executed by 
the masters of fiction in the present age ? 
What if they have displayed the mental sub- 
limity so often allied with ambition, enhanced 
2 e2 



318 

by all the colouring that genius can employ, 
without sketching one line of the moral 
hideousness really inherent in it? 

We shall now suppose a work of fiction to 
be unobjectionable on any of the grounds 
hitherto enumerated, and to be all, in short, 
that fiction may be without a pervading spirit 
of piety — a faithful transcript of domestic 
relations, and all the legitimate affections that 
arise from them, developed in a series of af- 
fecting, yet not improbable, scenes; with a 
just moral, not merely appended to the story, 
but inculcated by the tenor and issue of it ; 
not one tint of splendour employed in the 
disguise and decoration of sensuality, re- 
venge, ambition, or any of their kindred 
abominations. This is, plainly, the most fa- 
vorable supposition we can make. Is such 
a work, then, blameless ? Is it one over 
which the pious may hang, and indulge in all 
the luxury of pleasing emotions, without 
danger of any impression being left that 
need be regretted ? 

In the loveliest and most innocent form of 
unregenerate life, a sin exists, which in the 
judgment of God, as we learn from his Word, 
is one of the highest magnitude. The heart 



319 

is not given to God, but all its affections are 
lavished on the creature. Each affection in 
itself may be blameless, its object legitimate, 
its developement amiable ; but all centre su- 
premely on the world, and have the character 
of idolatry. Where is it that the Christian of 
established principle finds the firmness of his 
religious character put to the most trying 
test? It is in such a scene. Every thing 
around him is lawful, except that God is not in 
any thing. The warmth of friendship, the 
tenderness of domestic attachment, the harm- 
less brilliancy of intellectual converse, the 
fascination of urbpuity, is there ; but God is 
not there. How shall he summon resolution, 
in so soft a scene, to set about the rough work 
of pleading for him? How shall he startle 
its amiable tranquillity with so unwelcome a 
theme ? And if he forbear it, how shall he 
escape a contagion so insinuating, and resist 
the lethargic influence of such enchanted 
ground? He is in danger of a deadening 
effect on his spirituality, and God only can 
preserve him. Let him not, uncalled, en- 
counter so insidious a temptation. Now all 
the loveliness, and much of the evil influence 
of such a scene, may be transferred to the 



320 

pages of a romance. All its insinuating 
amiableness may be mirrored, and all its 
worldliness retained. Hence, in the perusal 
of such a work, the temptation again meets 
us in another form. The idolatry of world- 
liness, in captivating colours, is again before 
us ; the imagination is spell-bound, and through 
it the feelings— how shall we repel the pleas- 
ing illusion? The danger, in the real scene, 
is not so much that the understanding will be 
directly misled, as that the heart will be in- 
juriously influenced, by what is passing 
under the senses ; and the same danger may 
in a large measure be transferred to the ideal 
scene, in the midst of which the heart may 
be deteriorated also, by what passes before the 
imagination. Ought a Christian to volunteer 
himself into either? Presuming on the 
strength of his piety, ought he to go, uncalled, 
where piety is endangered? Let him re- 
member that it is an exotic on earth, and can 
only thrive in an atmosphere that is breathed 
from heaven — every breath from the spirit of 
the world will soil its freshness, will dull its 
fragrance, and make its vigour languish. 
What treasure ought a Christian guard like 
spirituality of mind? It is the lnedium of 



321 

every virtue that adorns his profession, and 
essential to the continuance of his peace. 
Without it he dishonours God, he forgets his 
Redeemer, and grieves the Spirit of Holi- 
ness ; his faith is an unsubstantial phantom, 
his character a painted sepulchre; he is a 
blemish in the church on earth, and an alien 
from the Commonwealth of heaven. 

It appears, then, that a work of fiction may 
have every merit which is claimed for those 
of our own age, and yet be unfit to occupy a 
place in a Christian library. It may bear a 
grave resemblance to real life ; it may be free 
from revolting impurity ; it may be stored 
with valuable information — and at the same 
time insinuate the poison of sensual depravity, 
or give attraction to revenge, to ambition, or 
some similar corruption of the mind. More- 
over it may be free from objection on each of 
these latter grounds, while it breathes a 
worldliness that must infect the spirituality of 
the Christian, who can take pleasure in the 
perusal of it. Hitherto we have shown what 
the works in question may be, consistently 
with ail the merit claimed for them, rather 
than what they actually are. But the fact is, 
that these boasted productions not only con- 



tain, in general, every evil which has been 
proved compatible with their reputed supe- 
riority, but more than we have yet enume- 
rated. They dress up lust, and call it by 
interesting names; they pervert into a false 
magnificence ambition, revenge, and every 
congenial evil ; and, without one exception, 
they are wholly characterized by the spirit of 
the world. But in addition to all this, how 
often do they paint as something superhuman 
that sentimental effeminacy which never yet 
originated one profitable effort, or one wise 
reflection, but alike unfits the person who in- 
dulges it for this world and for the next. 
Pervaded, as they universally are, by a spirit 
at virtual variance with that of religion, how 
often are they also made vehicles of a de- 
signed hostility to her cause ; and, under 
pretence of ridiculing fanaticism, contempt is 
poured along their pages over every thing 
most holy. Can a Christian look without 
pain on sentences pointed by malignant wit 
against every thing that he most loves and 
venerates? If he can, is it wise to familiarize 
his mind with the associations of profaneness, 
and rub off the tenderness of its devotional 
feelino* ? 



323 

However firmly seated in the mind of a 
Christian may be the conviction of his final 
security, let him never forget that so blessed 
an end is not accomplished without the inter- 
vention of appointed means, among which his 
own watchfulness may be confidently num- 
bered. Although the subject of a trans- 
forming and Almighty influence from above, 
let him remember that until life be ended, 
sanctification is not complete, and there still 
linger about him corruptions congenial with 
every circumjacent evil. A work of fiction, 
performed by a hand which the grace of God 
never guided, is, to say the least, a glowing 
picture of that world whose example is con- 
tagious, and whose look is seductive. It 
gathers up, and combines, and decorates the 
temptations of life, and pours their con- 
centrated influence on the heart, through the 
medium of imagination. Let hands that God 
has hallowed be far from the gilded pollution. 
However speciously prepared by the master- 
skill of genius, it is but the more effectual 
to delude and defile. The relaxations of the 
serious ought to be pure, and may be profit- 
able ; but the perusal of splendid folly is 
neither. Let us imagine the pages of such a 



324 

production spread out for the judgment of 
Incarnate Wisdom, or one of his inspired 
messengers — who does not anticipate what 
lhat judgment would be ? :in j nfidd aiol 

We have hitherto supposed the encomium 
commonly passed on the fictions of the age, 
(as we quoted it) to be no more than just. 
After what has been already said, it will be of 
little moment to inquire whether it be so in 
every point. But the truth is they are far from 
a faithful resemblance of real life; and the 
world of romance is still widely different from 
the world of reality. To move in thought 
along an imaginary world, in which all things 
pleasing to our fallen nature are met, and 
every thing unwelcome to it kept se- 
dulously out of view — to converse with ideal 
beings, encompassed with a halo that never 
shines around a living character — has ever a 
tendency to insinuate disrelish for the tame 
realities of life and human society. Is this 
an effect to be desired, or deprecated, by one 
who knows the importance of active duty and 
of personal happiness? 

It will be readily perceived that the fore- 
going remarks apply with equal force to the 
whole range of the drama, and (it is painful to 
! S 



325 

think) to a very large proportion of literature in 
her most engaging forms. If the whole world 
lie in wickedness, it is no wonder that her lite- 
rary lore bears traces of the universal defile- 
ment. The prevailing taste of every reader will 
principally guide his selection; and the more 
that of a religious professor is consistent with 
the character he wishes to sustain, the less will 
he need argumentative discussion to direct him. 
He will of himself judge rightly. The taste 
for what is Heavenly, prevalent in his soul, 
will reject instinctively what is heterogeneous 
from it. All cannot be right where an in- 
jurious taste prevails — it is a mark of disease 
in the moral, no less than in the natural, 
system. 

Of Religious Fiction in general we have 
only to observe, as we have already said of 
allegory in particular, that the good or evil 
tendency of it appears to depend on the 
judgment with which it is framed, and the 
spirit by which it is pervaded. We believe 
that it may be sober, unpolluted, spiritual; 
although it has not uniformly been so. But 
immoderate indulgence in the perusal of 
fiction, even in her best form, either finds the 
mind feeble, or will leave it so. 
2 F 



LECTURE 

ON THE 

DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE. 



Allow me to congratulate you, my re- 
spected auditors, on the feeling" which has 
prompted you to call a minister of religion 
to the commencement of your annual labors, 
Unequal, as I know myself, to do any thing 
like justice to the task you have allotted 
me, and much as I should prefer a place 
among the audience of this night to the one 
I occupy, were personal feeling listened to, 
I yet cannot but rejoice for her sake, that 
even the most unworthy of her public servants 
is thus permitted to appear among you. 
Although our sermons must not travel beyond 
their assigned sphere of locality, the pulpit 
and the reading-table, you, doubtless neither 



327 

expect, nor wish us, to forget our office alto- 
gether here. You have therefore repeated, 
by putting a parson once more into the lec- 
turer's chair, your noble testimony already 
similarly given that Religion and Science 
are not enemies, and the cause of either has 
nothing to dread from the prosperity of the 
other. You have given, too, a public pledge 
(which will surely be well redeemed) that the 
exertions of a year thus begun, while they 
operate in spreading wider the daily-widening 
circle of knowledge, shall be productive of 
nothing over which virtue might blush, or 
piety have reason to drop a tear. 

There are well-meaning men who look with 
distrustful eyes on the increasing diffusion of 
general knowledge by which the present age 
is happily characterized. It seems to thexn 
essential to the order and well-being of so- 
ciety that the greater part of it should be 
kept in ignorance. Were the population of 
the globe once let into the awful secret of the 
extent of their physical power when com- 
bined, such persons foretell, as the result, a 
catastrophe which would shake the frame 
of nations, and reduce into chaos the political 
world. According to their view the social 



328 

body must be bound about with the leaden 
chains of an intellectual captivity, to guard 
it from the greater evil of a maniacal suicide. 
Yes — and there are friends of religion, too, 
who look with timid apprehension on the 
march of popular mind, as fraught with peril 
to the cause which they have nearest the 
heart. A multitude of profane and repulsive 
associations have unhappily gathered around 
the idea of science in their upright minds, 
until they have come at length to regard it 
as wholly incompatible with the influence of 
an all-prevalent piety. Ignorance is thus 
made not only bliss, but wisdom and duty too. 
Oh ! sad decree of eternal providence, if this 
were a providential decree — that the torch of 
science, elevated in the sight of mankind, 
must disperse, like shadows of night, the 
blessings of the present life, and the hopes of 
another — that in order to secure both, we 
must, like the hero of the tale with which our 
childhood was familiar, darken and close up 
the chamber of knowledge, and affix an 
edict of exclusion on the door, as if the san- 
guinary secret of human destruction were 
locked within ! But this, if it were desirable, 
would be now impracticable. The tide of 






irrepressible inquiry would soon burst every 
barrier in its way, and rush in with accu- 
mulated force on the forbidden spot. The 
voice of learning is gone forth, irrevocable by 
any earthly power. The rays of information, 
multiplied in innumerable reflections, have 
shone abroad, and none can extinguish them. 
Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge in 
every department shall be increased, until the 
gracious designs of an ever-watchful pro- 
vidence are carried into accomplishment. 

Oh ! what enjoyments would the jealous 
or timid enemies of knowledge blot from the 
page of human life. Intellect may be per- 
verted, and its powers misapplied ; but its 

- 
pleasures in themselves are pure. They do 

not, like the darker passions of the mind, or 
the more depraved appetites of the body, in 
their willing indulgence necessarily involve 
moral evil, however they may be accidentally 
allied with it. They are not, in their own 
nature, essentially connected with theoretical 
or practical impiety, however the touch of 
either may have profaned them. Between 
what is intellectual and what is moral there is 
a broad and palpable distinction, so that 
the latter is, in no way, inevitably implicated 
P 2 F 



330 

in the former. The pleasures of intellectual 
exercise may be felt, indifferently, where the 
moral constitution is disordered, or where it is 
regulated aright. In either case they may be 
felt, but not, indeed, equally; for I believe 
that the right adjustment of the moral system 
will ever heighten and enhance the enjoy- 
ments of the intellectual. These enjoyments 
are free from the wild agitation of sensual 
indulgence. They are tasted best when the 
mind, retired within herself, converses with her 
own abstractions, or with the spirits of the 
great and good of distant climes and de- 
parted ages. They are frayed away by the 
tumult of frivolous amusement, and visit the 
soul in the stillness of her own solitude. 
They are unconfined by seasons and localities. 
They dwell with us at home ; they travel with 
us beyond sea ; they cheer the fire-side with 
their presence ; and lend additional glory 
to the landscape of summer. Time, that 
takes away from other joys, only brings ac- 
cumulation to their amount ; and both reason 
and revelation sanction the hope that death 
shall augment and perpetuate them in the 
good. Nay, we might almost yield ourselves 
to the illusion which the sublime fiction of 



331 

Milton would create, and suppose the plea- 
sures of intelligence forcing their way where 
no other can come, and casting a transient 
gleam among the shadows of final despair ! 

From the tyro victorious over his puzzling 
problem up to that mighty genius who saw 
the movements of planetary mechanism laid 
bare before him, and the laws of material 
nature disrobed of half the mysiery which 
had hidden them from every eye but his own, 
there is a universal pleasure in the ac- 
quisition of knowledge. The object of in- 
terest may be something speculative and 
remote, or it may be something practical 
and ordinary; but the joy of successful in- 
quiry, in one form or another, is what no 
rational being can be wholly a stranger to. 
On every subject but one you may find a 
man with scarce an idea ; touch that one, 
and you awaken the secret of his slumbering 
intelligence. Bring all men to one special 
department of knowledge and you may judge 
the majority irrational ; bring each to his own 
selected one, and you will the see the plea- 
sures of intelligence, in some sense, as widely 
diffused as the world. The tastes of men 
are infinitely various — give almost any in- 



332 

dividual his favorite theme, and you witness 
the activity of powers perhaps unsuspected 
before. And because the field of thought 
is boundless, there is always something to be 
acquired. The objects of sense are innu- 
merable by the art of the arithmetician. 
His infinites cannot be brought into prac- 
tical coincidence with the infinites of na- 
ture. In what innumerable relations and 
connections may each of them be viewed by 
the investigating mind ! In addition to the*e 
she commands the store of her own abstrac- 
tions, and can view them in infinitely various 
connections too ; and has, moreover, access 
to the peculiar combinations of thought pre- 
sented on the page of Revelation. The 
fields of inquiry are boundless as immensity 
itself. The science of external nature, the 
abstract sciences, the science of man* and 
the divine science, as religion may be called, 
will be inexhaustible, while external nature 
remains, while abstract truth exists, while 
the immortality of man is unexpired, and 
the eternity of God flows on. In each of 
the kingdoms of creation there is more than 
enough to occupy greater than human powers 
throughout an interminable existence. The 



333 

imaged infinity of God is there ; it meets 
us alike in the vast and the minute, in the 
world of matter and the world of mind. 
The student of truth in every department 
sums up the acquirements of a whole life in 
the well-known sentiment of the sage, " I 
have only gathered a few pebbles on the 
shore, while the great ocean of truth lay 
unexplored before me." The historian of 
nature shall never pause for lack of ma- 
terials. The mineralogist of every age shall 
go on to explore the treasures, and the 
geologist to investigate the strata and struc- 
ture of the earth. The botanist shall again 
swell the catalogue of her known vegetation, 
and embalm upon his page plants that have 
flowered unobserved beneath the footsteps 
of ages. The experimental philosopher shall 
pursue the decompositions and combinations 
of his various art, aud still electrify the 
world with new discoveries of the secrets, 
and new applications of the powers, of na- 
ture. The zoologist, like our first parent, 
calling around him the countless animal 
tribes of earth, of ocean, and of air, shall 
find unterminating employment in bringing 
them beneath the order of his classifications, 



334 

in recording their peculiarities, and tracing 
them to their several causes — and as the 
powers of the microscope are multiplied, 
they will multiply, in one quarter of his 
province, resources already unbounded. The 
mathematician shall carry on his calculations 
in endless series, aud produce new theorems 
to facilitate and confirm them ; and the 
learned of future times will contemplate 
with rapture the solution of problems over 
which a Newton paused. The powers of 
the telescope shall have a wider range, and 
astronomy shall take down the roll of her 
sublime records, to add another and another 
volume. The anatomist shall find innume- 
rable the wonders of the human structure; 
the physiologist add again to the known laws 
of animal economy ; and the scattered and 
unsettled principles of medical philosophy 
shall be gathered by some master mind into 
one consistent and still growing system of 
demonstrated science. The philologist, ever 
busy too, shall throw a still increasing light 
on the history of nations extinct, and of the 
human mind itself, from the genius of par- 
ticular languages, and the principles common 
to all. The pile of eloquence and elegant 



335 

literature shall rise higher and higher. Crea- 
tive genius, combining with infinite variety 
the contents of his inexhaustible kaleidoscope, 
shall still produce 

'« Forms ever fair, and worlds for ever new," 

and furnish fresh materials to the band of 
criticism while she illustrates the theory of 
composition, the principles of taste, and 
the philosophy of imagination. The histo- 
rian and the biographer shall each place in 
new and more important points of view his 
already accumulated stores; and witness 
their endless augmentation, while time evolves 
the destiny of nations and the lot of in- 
dividual life. The student of jurisprudence 
shall pour new light on the importance of 
principle, and the respect due to precedent ; 
shall elucidate more fully the connection of 
every seeming exception with its related rule, 
and with the fundamental axioms of eternal 
justice; and call in the aid of science to 
give more luminous order to the multifarious 
mass of his acquisitions. The essential con- 
nection of political with ethical science, and 
that of the latter with religion, shall be more 
clearly and generally understood. The truths 



336 

in whose influence lie the real wealth and 
prosperity of nations, breaking from the 
cloud of prejudice and the darkness of igno- 
rance, shall stand out before the eyes of man- 
kind. The vile doctrine of expediency shall 
be exploded, and the noble sentiment which 
even a heathen could utter, "fiat justitia, 
ruat coelum," shall be the motto inscribed 
on every senate-house in the globe. The 
metaphysician, who has hitherto done little 
more than refute old errors, and replace them 
with his own, shall separate the true and the 
false, the certain and the doubtful ; and, 
directing his patient and penetrating glance 
inward on the mysteries of his own in- 
tellectual being, shall bring his additional 
stock in every succeeding age to the esta- 
blished philosophy of mind. And the theo- 
logian, preferring the Revelation of a better 
world to all the wonders of the present, 
will continue to Work in that mine of heavenly 
wisdom, and ever find it unfathomable ; 
while omnipotence, fulfilling still what om- 
niscience has foretold, shall lay before him 
new evidence of its truth, and new materials 
for his profoundest meditations. The ac- 
quisition of knowledge even here shall be 



337 

unbounded, but what shall it be hereafter — 
when the soul, no longer enveloped in the 
cloud of dull materialism, but furnished with 
a subservient organization of immortal and 
untiring power, shall expatiate in more ex- 
alted spheres, and, with infinitely augmented 
means of attainment, go on to mingle the 
joy of knowledge with her loftier felicity, 
through the flow of everlasting ages. The 
acquisition of knowledge shall be unbounded ; 
and although it be the lot of but a few to 
add one mite to the general treasure, yet the 
pleasure of acquiring knowledge shall be un- 
bounded too ; and all may participate in it 
The longest life would not suffice to exhaust 
the library of existing information. As genius 
enlarges it, the opportunities of unambitious 
learning will increase. If every student can- 
not expand the circle of science, others 
will expand it while he stands within. He 
shall enter on their labours with less labour, 
and more tranquil enjoyment. The pleasure 
attending the acquisition of knowledge shall 
be thus general, and, in some sense, equal- 
ized. If there be a pleasure in the acqui- 
sition, there is a pleasure too in the very 
possession of knowledge. The mind rumi- 
2g 



338 

nates, delighted, on the thoughts whereon 
she has fed before. The beautiful, every time 
it is contemplated, appears more beautiful; 
the sublime is witnessed with augmented 
admiration; and fresh advantage is derived 
from the lessons of wisdom. Is there not a 
joy too, distinct from the guilty elevations of 
pride, in the consciousness that the will of 
eternal goodness has appointed us no place 
in the scale of intellect less favorable to the 
capacity of enjoyment, than the one we oc- 
cupy? An angel might mourn if doomed 
to degradation among beings of clay, and 
be an angel in virtue still. And are there 
no pleasures in communicating knowledge, 
from him whose "delightful task," is "to rear 
the tender mind" up to him who unfolds to 
listening taste and learning the highest 
mysteries of known science ? These plea- 
sures you have experienced, and can testify 
that philanthrophy and virtue may feel them. 

Interesting as it must be to the lover of 
knowledge to dwell on the pleasures attend- 
ing it, little argument is needed to prove 
their reality, while few in such an age as the 
present are disposed to question it. The 
utility of knowledge in its general diffusipn 



339 

I have already observed has been called in 
question by persons who, zealous in behalf 
of social order and religion, little think what 
a wound they thus help to inflict on each. 
To express a doubt of their probable per- 
manence, in the event of information being 
diffused among every class of mankind, is 
to insinuate a doubt of their origin being 
due to wisdom and truth. Since in wisdom 
and truth they have indeed originated, the 
extension of knowledge will display the fact 
more fully and more widely, and can only 
tend to confirm their inherent durability. 
Who will most value the blessings of civil 
government, regulating personal freedom, and 
securing every just right and legitimate 
privilege — is it he, whose mind, having 
scarcely ever reflected on one comprehensive 
subject, is incapable of forming any rational 
opinion on this, or he who with the powers of 
a well-exercised understanding has discerned 
in the light of history and observation, the 
immense importance of those blessings, arising 
out of the known frailty of human nature, 
and perilous tendency of its passions when 
void of control? Who will most value the 
blessings of religion, the cheering' and in- 



340 

structive light she pours on the present and 
future condition of man — is it he, who, un- 
accustomed to any serious thought, has 
never thought seriously of her claims, or let 
down the line of examination into the pro- 
foundness of her truths — or is it he who can 
intelligently weigh the one, and meditate over 
the other? Enough for peace and purity 
may be understood of religion by the rudest 
of rational beings — and this is one of the 
glories of religion — but if the whole course 
and analogy of nature, and the whole history 
of our species, be in favor of her doctrines 
and her claims, must not an extensive know- 
ledge of nature and of man tend rather to 
confirm than to undermine religious belief? 
" A little philosophy," says Lord Bacon, 
" maketh men atheists ; but depth of philo- 
sophy bringeth men's minds about to re- 
ligion." Surely the voice that issues from 
the works of God cannot contradict the 
voice that issues from his word. May I not 
on this occasion be permitted to remind you 
how often and with what commanding ma- 
jesty heavenly Truth has stretched forth her 
hand to the visible creation, as corroborating 
her testimony — how often, and how solemnly 



341 

she urges the study of the page of nature, 
as well as the study of her own ? " Great 
are the works of the Lord, sought out (or 
searched) by all who have pleasure therein." 
" A brutish man knoweth not this, neither 
doth a fool understand it," " Because they 
regard not the works of the Lord, neither 
consider the operation of his hands, He shall 
destroy them." 

We may lay it down that nothing can be 
injurious to human welfare, which can be 
proved a disposition of Divine Providence, 
arising, not out of the permitted depravity, 
but out of the original constitution, of man. 
To his original constitution belongs evidently 
the intellectual department of his soul, con- 
sidered apart from the accidental darkness 
with which it may be obscured, or the heri- 
ditary weakness which may be entailed upon 
it, by the influence of his moral disorders. 
On this department of the human soul the 
labours of omnipotence were not meant to be 
expended in vain ; and the instinctive desire 
of mental, as of corporeal exercise, in some 
form, must have ever belonged to the nature 
of man. The intellectual instinct (if I may 
venture to call it so) may be, indeed, and to 
2g2 



342 

a wide extent actually is, perverted in its 
developement, and confined in its smug- 
glings ; but even in the rudest form of so- 
ciety its existence will be found. It prompts 
the unlettered peasant to the formation of a 
thousand plans, and the invention of a 
thousand expedients, for overcoming the dif- 
ficulties, or widening the enjoyments, of his 
lowly condition. It impels the most uncul- 
tivated savage to rouse his slumbering, yet 
not extinguished powers, and employ them, 
in the absence of worthier occupation, on 
the stratagems of the chase, or the deeper 
stratagems of ferocious war. Whether the 
exercise of understanding in these instances 
be partly the result of an instinctive desire 
for it, or wholly the result of other desires, 
it matters not as far as the present argument 
is concerned. He who consults his own 
consciousness, and remembers the language 
of half-occupied thought, and the impos- 
sibility of keeping it wholly unoccupied in 
our waking hours, will incline to the former 
view of the subject. The circumstances of 
the human condition certainly create an ad- 
ditional stimulus to the exercise of the human 
understanding ; one which must have operated 



343 

at every period, and must continue to operate 
while the present world exists. There have 
ever been, and will be, wants to be supplied, or 
desires to be gratified, which call into action, 
more or less, the intellectual faculties. And 
what one generation has acquired will, if 
only by the imperfect medium of tradition, 
be handed down in some measure to the 
next ; which latter will also feel the instinct 
impulsive to mental exercise, and will thus 
add something, however small, to the inherited 
stock of its ideas. The blasting influence of 
unpropitious events may sometimes sweep 
away every little acquisition held by so feeble 
a tenure, and thus put back the process of 
human improvement ; but in such cases the 
natural tendency of the human mind to in- 
tellectual advancement has been checked only, 
and not disproved. But when once that 
point in civilization is reached where the art 
of recording thought is discovered, the ad- 
vancement of knowledge has been secured. 
It may retrogade in particular nations even 
then, from a concurrence of adverse influ- 
ences — but the records of past discovery can 
not be wholly swept away even by a Gothic 
inundation ; and they will form the starting 



344 

point from which other nations will again 
begin the career of improvement. It is to 
this we may chiefly attribute the vast supe- 
riority, in science, of the modern over the 
ancient world. After the tide of barbarian 
desolation had subsided, and the human mind 
began to recover from the agitation of ex- 
terminating war and brutal anarchy^ the tro- 
phies of classic learning were observed to 
linger among the relics of the past ; and 
their value was at length appreciated. The 
young world conversed with the mighty 
spirits of the old, and caught the flame of 
their literary ardor. Where they ended, the 
moderns began ; and adding link after link, 
lengthened out, and still lengthen, the won- 
drous chain of human knowledge. And if 
the whole tide of northern devastation, with 
the subsequent semi-barbarism of ages, could 
not utterly efface the monuments of ancient 
learning, we may venture to regard the de- 
struction of literature as an impossibility 
now. The art of printing has conferred on 
it a durability which shall be coincident with 
that of the world. It is a fact, then, that 
human knowledge has increased in amount, 
and in extent of diffusion too. Notwith- 



345 

standing* what some have rashly affirmed, 
that civilization and her attendant blessings 
have migrated from clime to clime, without 
enlarging their sphere on the whole, one 
glance at the map will satisfy common can- 
dor of the contrary. Such has been the ar- 
rangement of an all-wise and benevolent 
Providence — who shall venture to arraign it? 
Have we not here presumptive evidence, 
endued with the force of demonstration to 
every well-regulated mind, that from the 
mere extension of knowledge no one evil need 
be anticipated? The march of science is 
not due to the diseased, but arises from the 
original constitution of human nature, and is 
therefore a direct arrangement of all-govern- 
ing wisdom, whose tendency in itself can be 
only beneficial. Knowledge, indeed, like 
every other good, may be abused — a point 
which shall be noticed hereafter. 

That the diffusion of knowledge operates 
beneficially on the temporal interests of man, 
may be easily seen. I assume as granted, 
notwithstanding the paradox of Rousseau, 
the superiority, in happiness, of civilized 
over savage life. Never was a saying more 
true than the proverbial one, " knowledge is 



346 

power." It gives man authority over the 
animal world, over the elements of nature, 
and over the mind of his fellow-man. By 
knowledge be bows to his yoke the physical 
superiority of every tameable animal, thus, 
in many an instance, rendering the earth 
passable and habitable to himself, where else 
it would be an impenetrable wilderness. As 
the achievements of civilization multiply, crea- 
tures untameable by his art, retire before 
him, hemmed within narrower and still narrow- 
ing limits — so that a period may arrive when 
their fossile remains, and the records of 
zoology alone, will indicate the past existence 
of the monsters of the forest. By knowledge 
he multiplies a thousand-fold the fertility of 
earth ; penetrates her bosom, changes her sur- 
face ; yokes the wings to his chariot and 
makes himself a way over the trackless ocean, 
bringing back the riches, the comforts, and 
the learning, of every other land to his own. 
Thus not only the enjoyments of life are 
multiplied, but life itself is multiplied too — 
for divine Providence has ordained that 
earth's inhabitants shall increase with the 
increasing means of their preservation. 
Hence the very blessing of existence, with 



347 

all its capacities of enjoyment and excel- 
lence, is derived to millions, whose place in 
creation would otherwise be a blank and a 
void. And if knowledge endows man with 
an influence over his fellow-man, it is one 
not inconsistent with rational and practicable 
freedom, but in every respect capable of 
being turned to the account of the general 
weal. Universal equality, I may be allowed 
to say, is a mere idea impossible to be real- 
ized. The Almighty dispenses variously, 
in his infinite wisdom, the gifts of nature and 
of providence — the result of which must ever 
be a difference of place among men. This 
subordination has ever been found, and is 
indeed obviously, essential to the preserva- 
tion of society. A world where no evil 
passions are, might, possibly, do well with- 
out it ; but ours never could. Whatever 
innocently tends to strengthen the chain of 
subordination is therefore a benefit to man- 
kind. Knowledge has such a tendency. Su- 
perior mental attainments among the higher 
classes will confirm the reverence due to 
superiority of station ; and the diffusion of 
right education among the humbler classes, 
while it makes them acquainted with the 



348 

necessity of subordination, must ultimately 
tend to produce a rational acquiescense in it. 
But, as some will ever possess more largely 
than others the leisure and means of acquir- 
ing knowledge, it must ever continue to be 
unequally distributed among men, like every 
other boon of heaven ; and thus the widest 
practicable diffusion of knowledge will still 
operate in favor of subordination, by dis- 
tributing unequally, and, in the main, accord- 
ing to the inequalities of existing subordi- 
nation, the influence attending superior men- 
tal attainments. A familiar example of this 
influence is the well-known importance of the 
village school-master. He has triumphantly 
carried off from a book-stall, a soiled fragment 
of Blackstone ; and having long pored on its 
page by the light of his solitary midnight 
candle, he has contrived to extract from it a 
few notions on the subject of civil law. This 
is a kind of knowledge which the rustics of 
his neighbourhood are prepared to appre- 
ciate; and he becomes of consequence 
among them. If he be a man of upright 
and benevolent mind his little influence will 
often operate well in its sphere ; and although 
we smile at the picture of it, our smile is one 



349 

of good-humour, not of contempt. A far 
more important example of the truth in 
question occurs in the history of the South Sea 
Islands. There, superior knowledge was 
made, indeed, the handmaid of amelioration. 
Before the rude natives could welcome the 
doctrine, and appreciate the piety, of the 
Christian Missionaries, they were taught to 
revere their persons. The arts, the agricul- 
ture, the mysterious learning, of Europe, 
held them in awe ; and they stood at respect- 
ful distance, or lent ignorantly their aid, 
while the preparations proceeded for their 
own future instruction, and national regene- 
ration. Thus, in fact, their wild and uncer- 
tain passions were held in check by the hand 
of providential wisdom, until Christianity 
passed through to their hearts. The power 
of knowledge, like all other power, may un- 
doubtedly be abused ; and many a fearful 
instance of it blackens the annals of mankind. 
Who does not bleed in heart while he reads 
how the aboriginal population of a hemis- 
phere faded away before the military science 
and fiend-like cruelty of Europeans — how 
the charge of cavalry, and the roll of mus- 
ketry, and the lightnings of artillery, did 
2h 



850 

their fatal work among masses of naked and 
undisciplined savages, armed with clubs and 
bone-pointed arrows? Who does not feel 
indignant shame, when he finds such per- 
formances adorned by history with the ap- 
pellation of victories ? The power of know- 
ledge may be mischievously wielded in any 
quarter of the globe, in any condition of 
society, and in any department of life — but 
what good is incapable of abuse ? The same 
metal which is indispensable to the agri- 
culture, the arts, and the comforts of civil- 
ized life, has been made the grand instru- 
ment of all the horrors of war. Until the 
use and abuse of knowledge can be proved 
inseparable, no argument can be drawn from 
one against the other. Until it be shown 
that the evil is in the very use itself, nothing 
to purpose has been done on the other side 
of the question. That the power of know- 
ledge is capable of beneficial application has 
been sufficiently demonstrated. 

Let us now see how the diffusion of know- 
ledge operates on the religious interests of 
mankind. Some natural knowledge must be 
admitted essential to the preservation of re- 
vealed religion. To guard her truths from 



351 

the corruption to which all traditional know- 
ledge is liable, it was needful, without the 
intervention of a continuous miracle, and 
therefore it was divinely directed, that they 
should be deposited in written records. This 
obviously supposes either the miraculous 
communication of the art of letters for this 
purpose, as some have imagined, or, what ap- 
pears to have been the real fact, their previ- 
ous existence. It is equally plain that a 
general diffusion of at least a certain portion 
of education, will have the desirable effect of 
rendering the records of revelation generally 
accessible. But such a portion of education 
cannot be generally diffused (as experience 
has shown) without ultimately awakening the 
desire of more. Will knowledge in one de- 
gree advance the cause of religion, and in a 
higher degree retard it ? The very contrary 
of this will doubtless appear in the end. To 
start a cavil requires but little learning ; to 
remove a seeming difficulty may sometimes 
require sound erudition. Objections lie on 
the surface, but truth often far below it. 
Hence superficial knowledge, has, through 
the obliquity of the heart, prepared many 
for universal scepticism, and its attendant 



352 

feebleness of mind. To grasp with vigour 
and tenacity of thought a sufficient evidence, 
where more cannot be attained, is character- 
istic of masculine intelligence and profound 
knowledge, which, of themselves, will there- 
fore tend rather to confirm, than to embarrass, 
the impressions of religion. The diffusion 
of knowledge operates in another way to the 
advancement of religion — it is mortal to her 
enemy, superstition. It exposes, in parti- 
cular, the absurd wickedness of combating 
belief with tortures, and thus even in a land 
of prevalent scepticism holds the door of 
toleration open to the efforts of christian 
zeal, where superstition had barred it before. 
Accidental circumstances have caused, and 
may cause again, some exceptions to this 
remark, but its general truth cannot be in- 
validated. The present subserviency of art y 
in all her recent forms, to the diffusion of 
religion, is too familiar to be more than al- 
luded to here, It is indeed an instance, and 
a truly wonderful one, of the subserviency 
of knowledge to the cause of religion. 

We see, then, that knowledge has not only 
its pleasures, but its utility — that the dif- 
fusion of it has been directly provided for 



353 

by the wisdom of Divine Providence— that 
it is capable of being rendered subservient 
both to the temporal and religious interests 
of mankind. 

But while there are persons who erro- 
neously imagine the diffusion of knowledge 
hostile to human welfare, there are others 
who err on the opposite side. In the opinion 
of these, knowledge is to be the panacea 
and palladium of the world— in order to 
effect a universal regeneration upon earth 
we have only to fill all the channels of hu- 
man communication with her vivifying tides. 
If others believe general education super- 
fluous, they believe it to be the one thing 
needful. If others think knowledge hostile 
to religion, they think religion hostile to 
knowledge. This is a branch of the pre- 
sent subject surely well-deserving our atten- 
tion. With respect to the former branch of 
it, possibly it may have appeared to some 
that in sucli a province of inquiry a less 
protracted stay would have been more con- 
sistent with the office of him who -has now 
the honour of addressing you. When the 
importance of the subject is d ply considered, 
such a feeling will vanish, If, however, I 
2 H 



354 

have travelled farther than was needful into 
your ground, the only indemnification I can 
offer on this occasion is to bring you a little 
upon mine — where, I doubt not, you will favour 
me with the same indulgent attention which 
has hitherto accompanied me, owing to the 
intrinsic dignity of the subject which an 
introduction to your annual labours must 
suggest, rather than to any observations of 
mine. 

That religion is not hostile to knowledge 
may be shown without much difficulty. The 
sacred has been justly styled a literary order. 
In the darkest and most barbarian times a 
portion of education, however small, is ob- 
viously required by the nature of a pro- 
fession retaining even the shadow of a chris- 
tian ministry. In every country where such 
a profession prevails, it will afford a rallying 
point for advancing, and a refuge for de- 
clining literature. Such has actually been 
the case. Even in the notorious middle ages, 
when a cloud of ignorance and error in every 
department of thought lay dense upon the 
human mind, a glimmering of intellectual 
light still lingered on the clerical order. 
Much as they added to the religious darkness 



855 

of that period, they saved literature from a 
total eclipse. Bat for them the efforts of 
mind must have commenced again, when- 
ever they commenced, altogether ah initio, 
with scarce any aid from the acquirements 
of former generations. Their libraries were 
the depositories of ancient science and of 
classic lore, of whose value they knew so 
much as admonished them to preserve, al- 
though not to employ ^ie deposit. The 
clergy of the Reformation we know were 
peculiarly the patrons and promoters of learn- 
ing — convinced of its applicability to the 
cause of Christianity and of man. The glory 
of their literary labours yet shines on many 
a department of knowledge, besides that 
which was more immediately their own. In 
subsequent times the same truth has been 
abundantly, and in our own day signally, 
illustrated. When generations yet unborn 
shall ask in distant lands, who fixed the 
principles of our once barbarous and un- 
settled language, reduced it to system and 
to writing, and poured to us, through its 
improvement, a participation in the learning 
of a polished age — it shall be replied, the 
man of God who came from Britain to brins* 



356 

Christianity to our shores, with civilization, 
and knowledge, and prosperity, in her train. 
The Christian Missionary of our day has 
created the literature of nations — has given 
them the first impulse of a progress which 
shall finally terminate only with the termi- 
nating world. You will pardon the expres- 
sion of an exultation in which I trust you 
feel a share. 

The influence *of : personal religion has 
something in it which tends to expand the 
intellect. It furnishes new and all-important 
matter of reflection. Every man has indeed 
some subject interesting to him, but it is not 
always an enlarged or exalted one, such as is 
fitted to exalt and enlarge the mind. Such a 
subjectreligion furnishes. Thehighest relations 
and eternal destinies of man — the outlined 
realities of invisible worlds and superior 
being — the attributes, the counsels, the mani- 
festations of the Most High— these are the 
themes presented by Religion to the con- 
templation and reflection of her disciple. 
What sublimer objects, what profounder sub- 
jects, can leave their image on the mind ? 
They exalt imagination, they exercise under- 
standing, while they perform their primary 



357 

office of purifying the heart. Hence we 
are all familiar with the frequency of in- 
stances wherein ordinary minds, touched by 
the influence of religion, have broken out 
into an intellectual display which has aston- 
ished the persons previously best acquainted 
with their character. You have not im- 
probably witnessed even more remarkable ex- 
amples of what I have affirmed. You have 
seen those who, clodlike, lay inactive in a 
mental wilderness, but were awakened by 
the creative impulse of religion to a life of 
intelligence of which you had deemed them 
incapable before. They were born again 
in an intellectual scarcely less than in a 
moral sense. Their long torpid faculties 
were roused by a subject calculated to elevate 
and task them to the uttermost, and in which 
a deep interest was felt. And because the 
subject of religion is one which extends 
farther, and deeper, and higher, than the 
most gifted mind can follow, she has an ex- 
pansive influence in store for the loftiest 
modifications of human intelligence. Her 
truths are more sublime than the discoveries 
of science ; her revelations are more beautiful 
than the forms of fiction. The truth of these 



358 

observations does not depend on admission 
of her authority. Where that is rejected, 
what I now contend for must be, and has 
been, acknowledged by every one retaining* 
a particle of candour. 

Natural theology, as it is called, affords a 
noble and profound subject of thought; as 
the deeply philosophical treatises to which 
it has given rise, abundantly prove. In 
these, demonstration in many cases, and, in 
others, evidence approximating to it, is 
generally allowed to have been attained. 
What more can be said of the mathematical 
philosophy of Newton ? Now whatever there 
is of sublime, of beautiful, of profound, in 
natural theology, belongs in substance, pe- 
culiarly belongs, to revealed religion- — not 
only because it forms the substratum of her 
doctrines, but because the discovery of it 
is chiefly, if not wholly due, to her com- 
munications. It is an authenticated and 
familiar fact, that the highest efforts of hu- 
man mind before the publication of Chris- 
tianity, failed to reason out the system of 
natural religion. The Memoirs of Socrates, 
the Works of Plato and of Cicero, will ever 
remain monuments of this truth, even al- 



359 

though we grant that every thing which they 
inculcated was wholly their own, and no 
borrowed light had been caught by them 
from the Hebrew Revelation. There is 
another fact not less worthy of mention here. 
Not only the oracles of superstition ceased 
at the promulgation of Christianity, but, in 
some sense, the oracles of philosophy be- 
came silent too. As Christianity became 
known, the system of natural religion was 
disclosed in her records ; and nothing re- 
mained for right reason to do but to assent, 
and confirm with her demonstrations ; nor 
could perverted reason offer another system 
of national religion in its place, but in op- 
posing it was driven to the sad necessity of 
denying the existence of any. This is a 
circumstance deeply worthy of consideration. 
The nature of Deity and the future destiny 
of man were favorite subjects of speculation 
in the philosophic schools of antiquity. Why 
do we hear nothing of them now but what 
is borrowed from the scriptures? The enemy 
of revelation finds his principal refuge in 
scepticism, excluded as he thus is from the 
ground of theological speculation. All this 
amounts to a tacit admission that Revelation, 



360 

in unfolding the right system of natural re- 
ligion, has supplied the unknown truth pur- 
sued by philosophy in vain. These things, 
you hardly need to be reminded, are not 
referred to at present as evidences of the 
divine original of Christianity, (although con- 
sidered in that view they amount to strong 
corroboration), but simply for the sake of 
showing, what I trust they fully shew, that 
revealed religion is not hostile to natural 
knowledge, but has illustrated, I might have 
said supplied, its loftiest department — one 
fully adequate to employ the longest life and 
the most powerful understanding. 

I am here reminded of the opinion left on 
record by the celebrated Sir William Jones, 
(than whom none was ever better qualified 
to pronounce one), on the character of the 
Scriptures considered simply as a com- 
position — that they contain finer strains of 
eloquence and poetry, more important history, 
and purer morality, than can be found within 
the compass of any other volume. If this 
opinion be just, they cannot surely be hostile 
to literature in any one of those departments 
— and what has Sir William Jones expressed 
on the subject, but what every reader of 



361 

taste and information has felt I The Scriptures, 
then, not only embody the system of natural 
religion, but they also contain other ft mines 
of unalloyed and stainless thought." 

The various evidences of their inspiration 
open a boundless field of thought, where 
something new has from time to time been 
gathered, even to the present age. The evi- 
dence from miracle alone has employed, and 
may yet employ, the most extensive eru- 
dition and the soundest ability. The pro- 
phetical evidence may still admit perhaps 
of happier elucidation, so far as it has ac- 
tually been accumulated; and it is one which 
will go on to accumulate, as has been al- 
ready hinted. I may here perhaps be per- 
mitted, without imputed presumption, to 
state, that even in some of the best works 
on this subject which have hitherto appeared, 
a very important principle has not been uni- 
formly kept in view. The force of the 
evidence for the divine authority of Reve- 
lation, that arises out of accomplished pro- 
phecy, consists principally in the nature of 
the things predicted, and accomplished, being 
such as to render human foreknowledge of 
them impossible. For example — considering 
2i 



362 

the observed tendency of all earthly grandeur 
and power to decay, we must concede the 
possibility of the fall of Babylon having been 
conjectured beforehand by unaided natural 
sagacity. But not only the general fact 
has been foretold — minute particulars attend- 
ing it, which no human eye could foresee, 
have been enumerated in the strains of the 
prophet, and afterwards minutely realized. 
To magnify the fulfilled prediction of the 
general fact, as of itself an evidence of in- 
spiration, (which many have done) may there- 
fore be regarded as ill-judged ; yet the real 
force of the evidence remains unimpaired, 
for the prediction of particulars, in which 
it mainly consists, rendered obviously ne- 
cessary the prediction of the fact from which 
they derive their importance. The internal 
evidence involves all that can be needful to 
call forth the exercise of the most philo- 
sophical intellect — the unrivalled excellence 
of the ethical system of Scripture, both in 
its fundamental principles and in its details — 
the harmony of its doctrines among them- 
selves, and with the grand facts of human 
history, and with the unbiassed deductions 
of reason. The auxiliar evidences form a 



363 

scarcely less interesting department, which 
has even in our own age been enlarged, 
and will, not improbably, be enlarged yet 
further. Is religion hostile to the exercise 
of mind, who lays such materials of thought 
on the very threshhold of her temple I 

As we proceed onward to her inner sanc- 
tuary — to the essential truths of the Christian 
system, considered in themselves, and in 
their mutual connection — we still find occa- 
sion of exercise for the intellectual powers. 
A well-known sceptical writer has styled the 
followers of Christianity " a philosophical 
sect" — which proves the truth of the asser- 
tion I have just made, as far as the confession 
of an enemy, and that no ordinary one, can 
prove it. Yon are aware of the importance 
attributed in the New Testament, and by all 
its disciples, to a clear view of its doc- 
trines — but a clear view of these must imply, 
among other things, some previous exercise 
of the thinking faculty. 

Even these brief remarks, I trust, are 
enough to show that religion is favourable 
to the cause of learning. A more difficult 
task remains to be accomplished — not more 
difficult in itself indeed, but in relation to 



364 

the prejudices usually opposing its success 
— that is the task of proving a coincident 
diffusion of religion essential to the good 
effects of a general diffusion of knowledge. 

You will recollect that in meeting ob- 
jections against the diffusion of knowledge, 
it was attempted only to prove that know- 
ledge may be employed as an instrument 
of good, while it was admitted that it may 
also be employed as an instrument of evil. 
Now the use which will be made of the 
power of knowledge must plainly depend on 
the moral principles by which its possessor 
is actuated. How nobly was it employed 
by him whose personal fame justly outshines 
all the splendour which wealth and lineage 
have elsewhere shed on the name of Howard ! 
In him philanthrophy was a system and a 
science. Benevolence and piety taught him 
their plans, and girded him for their accom- 
plishment. The victims of a misery over- 
looked by every eye but his own and that of 
God, blessed, and shall have reason to bless 
his name, while such forms of misery exist. 
Look at an opposite example in him miscalled 
the great, since he cannot be called the good, 
Napoleon. All the highways of Europe, 



365 

except our own, covered with the carnage 
of his thousand battles, have given tremen- 
dous attestation to the influence of that evil 
mind, and its self-taught system of slaughter. 
These, indeed, are examples in extreme on 
either side. Every good man cannot hope 
to be a Howard, nor every bad man aspire 
to be a Napoleon. But such examples more 
strikingly illustrate a truth presented to us 
by the observation of every day, that know- 
ledge will be either used or abused accord- 
ing to the moral principjes of its possessor. 

The dissemination of what is called ethical 
knowledge in company with general infor- 
mation is indeed rarely objected against— 
but this, I venture to contend, will never be 
enough, unaided by the authority and sanc- 
tions of religion. The law of passion has 
her sanctions, in the base enjoyment of gra- 
tification and the uneasiness attending self- 
denial. If moral truth be devoid of all 
sanction but its utility, it will combat with 
passion on unequal terms. Let all human 
eloquence and wisdom be employed in lec- 
turing a vicious population on the truths of 
mere morality — and they will scarcely re- 
claim an individual. This is the office of 



366 

religion, and no other can perform it. Put 
the power of knowledge into the hands of 
the multitude, while the principle of religion 
is absent from their hearts, and you put a 
terrible weapon into the grasp of a maniac. 
The experience of the world has given awful 
proof of this. In the late history of a 
neighbouring nation, you behold the de- 
veloped effects of knowledge diffused with- 
out religion. Those effects are not all re- 
corded^ — they are still in course. They may 
be traced down to the present day, but they 
will extend beyond it. The principles which 
produced them are still at work, and the 
mysterious contagion of the moral plague has 
passed into other lands from that of its na- 
tivity. What the result will be, omniscience 
only can foreknow — the Christian can leave 
it with calm confidence in his hands who is 
able to draw final good even out of the 
depths of human guilt and calamity ; but 
thus much may boldly be pronounced, that 
the immediate result can only be secured to 
the side of human happiness by the wide 
diffusion of religion. We may be told of 
the discords of religious sects, and of the po- 
litical animosities to which they have given 



367 

rise ; but such things belong to the abuse of 
religion — they have wholly originated in the 
corruption, in the absence, of religion. 
They are fast passing away, but the fact re- 
mains, and ever shall remain, undeniable, that 
while superstition has uniformly degraded 
the moral character, and philosophy has 
failed to elevate it in any one community, 
Christianity, even on the admission of ene- 
mies, has done, and is still doing, this. Let 
knowledge and religion, then, go hand-in-haxid 
over the earth, and blessings shall mark their 
united career. Let the strength of the one 
be directed by the wisdom of the other. 
Religion without knowledge is deprived of 
an ally ; but knowledge without religion is 
blind. God hath joined them together — let 
not man attempt their separation. May I 
not be allowed to add, even on this occasion, 
that if there be (as impartial reason has 
owned) eternal interests of man, religion, 
revealed religion, is indispensable to these. 
A light like that she throws on our prospect 
beyond the tomb, can be supplied from no 

other source. 

FINIS. 

DECK, PRINTER, IPSWICH. 



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